


she's new

by artsypolarbear



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Romance, Shy clarke, popular lexa, slight slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-06-01 08:48:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 77,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsypolarbear/pseuds/artsypolarbear
Summary: Lexa's popular, always surrounded by friends, always sitting in the front row. Clarke's the exact opposite; lonely, lacking friends, and always sitting in the back row. Neither one is happy with where they are in life, but find themselves unable to make a change.To one another, they are new. Unexplored territory, a jump into the unknown - but in each other, they find the change they didn't even know they really needed.(a Clexa college AU, cause there can never be too many)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hope it's worth the mild hype that took place over the past few days lmao

She was new.

Or so Lexa thought. By the time she noticed her, the year was already well into October. She could have very well been there since September – she sat in the back, Lexa sat in the front; not having noticed her wasn’t that far outstretched an idea. She never said anything, never seemed to draw anyone’s attention, and disappeared like smoke the second the bell rang. Lexa wasn’t even sure how she showed up to class; she’d just look back, and there she would be.

It seemed half like a strange dream that Lexa had even seen her.

But she couldn’t quite forget her, either. She’d thought she knew more or less everyone in her lectures, if not by name then by face – but for some reason, she’d never noticed this girl before. This girl, with messy blonde hair and beautifully blue, though somehow somber eyes, she looked nothing like someone who would go unnoticed. She looked like someone who, upon entering a room, would take command of it simply because of who she was – but that was precisely what she didn’t do.

At first, Lexa had failed to notice her altogether. But then, when she did notice her…she couldn’t stop. Not just in her art history classes, but everywhere.

Buying sandwiches in the cafeteria to go. Sitting in the far corner of the reading lounge of the library, curled up and so well hidden it was as though she weren’t even there. Walking down the street towards the bus stop, eyes fixed on the ground, never stopping to speak to anyone. Sitting on benches in the hallways, waiting in line at the student office – she was everywhere. Or so it seemed to be, to Lexa at least.

Lexa never saw her with anyone. She was always alone, and almost always on her way somewhere else.

It wasn’t like she was an obsession or anything. More like a mystery, an enigma that appealed to Lexa’s curious nature; she just wanted to know more about her. See more, learn more, if even just her name – having her be nameless in her mind felt wrong.

As the class student union representative, Lexa had thought herself someone who kind of knew everyone in her class. She was always the first one to extend a hand to a new student, to flash a smile and introduce herself. She was easy to get along with, she prided herself on that, and it was what she was known for. Lexa Woods, the student body president, the star player of the field hockey team, the happiest volunteer at student conventions – everyone wanted to be her friend, and, well, she tried to be everyone’s friend. Maybe she couldn’t remember the names of all eight hundred students in her class, but she did know those in her classes, recognized those who spoke with her, and always had time for anyone who wanted to chat.

Well, almost always.

Sometimes she was late for practice.

Sometimes she’d get so caught up chatting with her philosophy professor about her extra readings that she’d forget she was due to be at the field at quarter past the hour.

And so, sometimes, she ran past her friends, ignoring their questions, hurrying her way towards the locker room to change.

Though she was the star player of the team, that didn’t mean coach Indra wouldn’t make her do the penalties all through practice if she was late. The same rules applied to everyone.

She didn’t notice the blonde in her way before it was too late to avoid a collision. There was a surprised yelp, a pain in her shoulder, and then, by some miracle, Lexa managed to catch herself against a wall and not fall on top of the girl she’d just more or less body-checked into the ground.

The blonde hadn’t been so fortunate. Her hands hadn’t been free, having been carrying a stack of books, and so, she’d landed on her back onto the gravel path with no way to stop herself. The books had fallen all around her, one of them leaving a nasty scrape on her shin, but what Lexa noticed first was the fact that she was holding her head, clearly in pain.

“Oh my god,” she cried, rushing over and helping her up into a seated position. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking, I-“

The blonde let out a pained grunt. “That fucking hurt.”

Lexa didn’t know what to say, other than to repeat her apology. “Does it hurt really bad? Let me see-“

She touched the blonde’s hand, just slightly, but the girl recoiled from her touch as though surprised – it was so unexpected that Lexa was left with her hand mid-air, unsure of what to do.

“I think I’m bleeding,” the blonde muttered, reaching for her books with one hand while the other kept holding at the back of her head.

“No, here, let me,” Lexa insisted, gently pushing the blonde’s hand away and quickly gathering the books up. “I’ll take you to the nurse.”

“I’m fine-“

“You said it yourself, you’re bleeding. And it was my fault, so…let me help? I feel awful.”

Lexa offered the blonde a hand and her most reassuring smile. What she got in return was a tentative hand in hers and what could’ve been construed as the hint of a smile.

After dusting the gravel off of herself, the blonde followed Lexa to the nurse. Lexa had also picked up her backpack without asking, just wanting to be friendly, completely missing the slight surprised look on the blonde’s face as she did so. She kept eyeing her, the blonde, half in concern and half because of her overwhelming curiosity, but her few attempts at conversation weren’t met with much enthusiasm.

She couldn’t tell if the blonde was shy or unfriendly, or a mixed combination of both – but she figured there was no use in trying to force it.

It wasn’t until they reached the nurse’s office that the blonde said something.

It was just a thank you, but it felt like a little victory to Lexa.

She’d almost left the room when she realized she still didn’t know the girl’s name. Somehow, she’d forgotten to ask.

For a brief moment, she considered turning around and asking, but before she could make up her mind, the nurse came in and did the asking for her.

“And what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Clarke Griffin.”

That satisfied Lexa, and she walked out, having almost entirely forgotten about practice.

But then it hit her, and she started running again. Not that it would’ve done much – practice had already started, and she was on the wrong end of campus.

In the end, she didn’t mind that she had to do twenty extra of whatever they did – 20 extra seconds of planking, 20 extra squats, 20 extra minutes of jogging at the end…it didn’t matter. So what if she was left feeling completely dead by the end of practice, it was all for the best.

“Good job, Lexa,” Indra called out when Lexa returned from her extra jog at the end of practice.

“Thanks,” Lexa groaned, grabbing her water bottle and making a noise of disappointment when she saw it was empty. “I promise I won’t be late again.”

“Good,” Indra chuckled. “Now hurry along, it’s getting late.”

Lexa half-walked and half-jogged to the locker rooms, sweaty and exhausted, muscles aching and her stomach crying out for food of any sorts. On her way into the building, she saw Anya was waiting for her at the parking lot, her annoyed look unmistakeable even from so far away.

“What took you so long?” was Anya’s first question to her when she finally got in the car. “All the other girls left half an hour ago.”

“I was late to practice,” Lexa sighed, taking a long sip from her bottle. “I think I’m dying.”

“There’s an energy bar in the glove compartment,” Anya told her as she backed out of the parking space. “Why were you late? You’re never late.”

“I ran into a girl,” Lexa began. She was consequently interrupted by the fact that she’d taken too large a bite from the peanut protein bar she’d found, and in her attempts to chew it, was left silent.

“A girl? What? Who?”

Lexa swallowed her mouthful and almost choked, tears welling up in her eyes as she coughed. “Not like that, literally – I was running to practice and didn’t look, ran into this girl. She fell backwards and hit her head, she even bled a little, I felt so bad that I had to take her to the nurse…”

“So you were late to practice because you tackled a girl. Nice.”

“I didn’t mean to do it!”

Anya laughed. “I know, I know – our miss goody-two-shoes would never do something like that on purpose.”

Lexa rolled her eyes and laid back against her seat. “I hope she’s okay.”

“You took her to the nurse. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“She’s in my art history class, you know,” Lexa continued, mostly talking to herself. “Hadn’t noticed her before, not until last week.”

“And what happened last week?”

Lexa shrugged. “Nothing. I just noticed her, that’s all.”

“Maybe she’s new.”

“That’s the thing,” Lexa sighed, staring out of the window. “I don’t think she is.”

 

* * *

 

Though she didn’t know it, Lexa was right.

Clarke wasn’t new. She’d been there for a year now, having transferred from the college across town last September. She was well past the point of being considered ‘new’.

Her head ached a little. It hadn’t been too bad, just a scrape so far as she was concerned, but the nurse had told her to go home and rest.

When she’d told her mom, she’d received a worried array of questions, but she’d known to expect it. Her mom was, after all, a doctor. It was both her job as a mother and as a doctor to be worried when her daughter told her she’d hit her head hard enough to bleed.

Clarke wiggled her toes and sighed. She’d painted her nails bright green this time, and considered adding in a flower on her big toes – but decided against it. The chemical smell of the nail polish was getting a bit too much.

With her toes in the air, she heel-walked to the window, and shoved it up, letting in the fresh night air. It was raining, the autumn leaves on the ground pattering from the steady fall of the rain. The bare trunks of the trees shone, black in the yellowy light of the streetlamps, and the street itself glistened in the dark night.

There wasn’t a car in sight, not a single soul was out. No light was on in any of the houses she saw, not a single porchlight or kitchen lamp was lit. It was way past midnight, and everyone else was asleep. Her mom, too, was fast asleep in her room two doors down.

It was quiet, and it was calm.

It was lonely, too, but Clarke had grown used to that.

She preferred being alone to being exhausted.

At the beginning, her mom had asked her every now and then if she’d made any new friends.

After a few months, she’d stopped. Clarke knew she was worried, noticed the concerned looks and the worried sighs, but also knew she respected her privacy.

She was an adult, after all, and could take care of herself.

More or less.

It was late, and she knew she should sleep, but she couldn’t. She didn’t feel like it, though she felt tired; she didn’t feel like laying down in bed and trying to shut her eyes. So instead, she curled up in her chair, pulled out her sketchbook, and started drawing. She didn’t listen to music, just to the rain falling outside, and the wind in the trees, and the occasional car driving down the street next to theirs. She didn't need music to silence the world out - the world, at that moment, was silent enough on it's own.

By the time the sun came up, she’d only slept maybe an hour or two. But that was fine, she’d grown used to that – she put on concealer, tried to comb her hair, and pulled on a beanie that hid most of her features. Though she knew she wasn’t going to be seeing anyone she particularly cared about, she still cared enough to make sure she didn’t look like absolute hell. She didn’t want anyone thinking there was anything wrong with her.

When she got to her 8 a.m. art history class, she saw that only a few people had turned up. That was not unusual – 8am classes were like that. And, given the professor didn’t consider attendance mandatory, a lot of people took that as permission to sleep in.

Clarke couldn’t have slept in had she wanted to. She had enough trouble sleeping normal amounts.

And so instead she sat at the very back of the classroom, hid behind her books and her hat, and tried her very best to not draw anyone’s attention.

Not that she particularly tried to. She just wished so hard that she could just be left alone that it translated into her outer appearance, and, as a result, everyone in the class avoided her. To most, she was just shy of invisible; they would see her, but not remember her the second she was out of their sight. And that's what Clarke preferred.

Just a few minutes before the lecture was due to start, Clarke noticed the girl from the day before walk in. She sat down at the very front, next to two other girls, and immediately got to chatting. For 8 a.m., she looked impressively well put together. Her hair was combed and slightly curled, her clothes were neat, and her face looked clean and fresh. Clarke found herself stealing glances simply because she was envious of how she looked – so happy, so comfortable with herself, so outspoken and in her element.

Clarke would’ve given anything to be her.

She sighed and looked away, fixing her eyes on the smudge on the window two rows down from where she sat. The morning sun was golden and soft, not yet too bright, and it looked like it would be an absolutely gorgeous day.

Lexa, having not noticed the blonde staring until she looked away, only glanced to the back to see Clarke staring out of the window, fingers twirling her pen. Lexa noticed that she had a band-aid on the back of her left hand, definitely from yesterday’s fall. Had she not been so far away, Lexa might have gone over and asked if she was okay. But she was far away, and right by the door, and so when the lecture was over, she was gone long before Lexa even managed to get out of her row.

“What’s the rush, Woods?”

Lexa glanced at her friends and shrugged, giving up on trying to catch up to Clarke. “Nothing. My legs are just sore, that’s all.”

“That’s what you get for being late,” Octavia smirked, shoving her books in her bag and throwing it over her shoulder. “Maybe next time you’ll come on time, you missed a lot of goss-“

“Octavia, hush, Lexa doesn’t want to hear about your boy troubles,” Costia interrupted, giving her a nudge. “It was nothing new. Lincoln this, Lincoln that…just ask him out already.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “I _can’t_ , he’s my brother’s friend. It’s…weird.”

“But you’re in love with him.”

“Am not.”

“In lust.”

“Maybe…he’s just so hot- you guys just don’t get it.“

Lexa laughed at their exchange and shook her head. “You’re talking to two lesbians, can you _really_ complain that we don’t get it?”

“You two,” Octavia muttered, walking up the steps, “Are hopeless.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So, Halloween is coming up.”

Lexa had only just set her tray down, but Octavia wasn’t about to wait.

“What are we doing?”

“Clubs? Parties? What we do every year?” Costia suggested. “Or were you talking about costumes?”

“I already know,” Raven, the brunette sitting by Octavia, said.

She was more Octavia’s friend than Lexa’s. Lexa hadn’t yet gotten to know her, but she had just started hanging out with them and didn’t seem to want to leave. Not that she wasn’t nice, she was…but she wasn’t on the field hockey team, and had a bit of a rebel attitude to her, something which at times set Lexa out of ease.

“What are you going as?”

“You know that badass chick from Atlantis?”

“What are you going about-“

Lexa zoned out for a second, not listening to her friends discussing their outfits, not until suddenly silence fell and she realized she’d been asked a question.

“Huh?”

“Were you listening?”

“No, I was eating,” she lied, lifting her fork. “What’d you say?”

“What should we do?”

“I signed up to be a volunteer chaperone for kids,” Lexa shrugged.

“Oh, god, not again,” Octavia began.

“I’m not dragging you along this time,” Lexa said quickly. “I just wanted to do it. I’ll catch up with you guys after, I’ll have the kids home by eight anyway…”

“Okay…but still, where should we go?”

“Tell?”

“It’s all the way across town.”

“No frat parties,” Costia said quickly, before Octavia had time to suggest it. “I’m not going anywhere _near_ inebriated frat boys.”

“But-“

“You can invite Lincoln to come with us,” Lexa suggested. “To be your big strong protector in the dark night-“

“I don’t need a protector,” Octavia scoffed.

“Well, as your date then.”

“But he’s my brother’s _friend!”_

“And you like him. So what? You’re grownups. He’s what, three years older than you?”

“Almost four, which-“

“Could be a problem,” Lexa interjected. “Just saying.”

“But he’s hot.”

Costia sighed. Raven just laughed and teased Octavia, while Lexa- well, Lexa half wished she didn’t have to go anywhere at all. But only half, she loved being with her friends and loved being out once she was out.

“How about Chambers?”

“That could work,” Costia nodded. “Afters at Afters, of course-“

“Of course,” Octavia and Raven agreed.

“And it’s close enough that everyone can afford a cab.”

“I could-“ Lexa began, but found herself silenced by a French fry being shoved in her mouth.

“No, Lexa, you’re not offering to be the designated driver,” Costia said sternly, having known what she'd say before she'd even managed to say it. “You deserve to have fun, too.”

“Drinking doesn’t equal fun, y’know,” Lexa muttered, tossing the last bit of the French fry back at Costia.

“But when all your friends _are_ drunk, it’s very boring not to be,” Costia sighed. “Come on, Lex, it’s been weeks since you’ve come out with us.”

And so, Lexa promised to go out. It wasn’t like she hated the idea, she knew she’d love it – but there was a part of her, however small, that kind of wanted to...not go. That yearned to stay home and watch scary movies and eat popcorn, like she used to with Costia before they grew up, that wanted to cuddle up and wear pj’s and maybe not get so drunk her head spun. To fall asleep comfortably, without smelling like booze and feeling like the world was spinning; she simply craved the ease of it all.

“And, hey,” Octavia added, smiling widely, “Maybe you’ll meet someone. Lots of cute girls in slutty costumes…”

“I’m counting on it,” Lexa grinned. “I don’t need lots, though. Just one.”

“You got plans, huh?”

“What?”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Are you planning on getting laid?”

“I don’t know how anyone could plan on it,” Lexa frowned.

“I could,” Costia said lightly, smirking a little. “It’s all about setting your mind to it.”

“Seriously, you guys are ridiculous,” Lexa laughed, getting up and grabbing her bag. “I gotta go. Class. And you should too.”

 

* * *

 

“Clarke?”

Clarke, who was sitting on the couch with her headphones in, didn’t hear when her mother called her, not the first or the following four times. It took for her to actually stand in front of Clarke and to wave her hand in front of her face before she realized she was trying to get her attention.

“What?”

“I have a longer shift at the hospital.”

Clarke looked at her incredulously. “Yeah?”

“It’s Halloween tomorrow?”

“…yeah?”

Abby rolled her eyes and sighed. “Are you staying home or not?”

“Home,” Clarke shrugged.

“Okay, then, there’s candy on the side table, and more in the cupboard. For trick or treaters, none for you,” Abby said, smiling a little – she was only joking.

“Okay, Mom,” Clarke said, smiling a little.

“Any plans?”

“Movies, maybe. I’ll try my best not to get killed.”

Abby just rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back…well, I’ll call you when I know. There’s leftovers in the fridge-“

“I’m not a child, Mom,” Clarke replied. “Come on, go, you’ll be late. I can watch the house. And feed myself. And make sure our house doesn’t get egged.

“Good. Now, remember, Timmy from down the street can’t eat candy, his mom brought that bag of toys to give to him-“

“Yes, Mom, I see it right there, labelled Timmy- I got it. Go.”

Abby gave Clarke a rushed kiss on her forehead before heading out, the door slamming shut behind her and leaving Clarke in peaceful quiet.

She would have the house to herself for at least the next two days. That meant peace, and quiet, and relaxing – she could take a bath with the door open and music playing from the speakers, she could lounge around and not listen to her mother’s worried sighs…she could just be. In peace.

A year or two back, she would have been planning to go out, sitting around with her friends, talking excitedly about what parties to go to and who they were going to try and hit on and what they were going to dress up as. She would’ve gone out, too, with people, to clubs and gotten drunk and had fun, and come home late, later than she meant to. Or not come home at all, instead going home to someone else’s bed, to have a night together with a stranger whose name she would never remember.

But that had been then.

And now was now.

Now, she couldn’t even think about going out. She felt guilty, she hadn’t even worn a dress since the funeral, she couldn’t bear thinking about it – she didn’t have the energy to even try any more.

The pictures on the walls had lost their meaning to her. She no longer focused on them, no longer looked at the group pictures of her family. Her eyes skirted over them, over memories of a family that no longer was, and it was almost as though it had never happened.

Her father’s picture on the mantlepiece was the one piece of furniture in the house that was regularly dusted.

Sometimes, when her mother wasn’t home, Clarke lit a candle by the picture, and sat in the lounge, just staring into nothing, listening to music and letting the room get darker and darker until the candle’s flicker was the solitary light creating long shadows wherever it’s glow fell.

That night, however, Clarke actually went to bed. She left the light on in the hall, and left the door open, and curled up in bed to try her best to fall asleep.

Surprisingly enough, she managed it.

 

* * *

 

“Happy Halloween!”

Clarke frowned when she saw students in Halloween costumes posted at the main gates to campus. They were handing out candy and condoms, and there was a large crowd around them, one which was impossible to get around.

She tried worming her way through, but instead, ended up standing in front of the brunette whose name she was yet to find out. Not that she really cared to; it wasn’t like there were many brunettes that Clarke knew that she would’ve needed to distinguish her from.

“Happy Halloween, Clarke,” the girl smiled, handing her a party-size Milky Way and a condom.

Clarke, already reaching out to take the candy, froze for a brief second when she heard her name. But the crowd was moving, and the girl just shoved the candy in her hand, and the moment was gone before Clarke really had time to register what had just happened.

She was left there with a condom and a piece of candy in her hand, and complete confusion as to how the girl knew her name. She was early for class, and so she just wandered off, staring at the candy in her hand. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she desperately tried to remember if she’d told the girl her name, but came up blank. Surely she would’ve known her name, had she introduced herself?

She’d smiled at her, too, a smile so natural and bright that Clarke couldn’t help but feel a little…something, herself. Maybe not happy, she was sure that just a smile couldn’t do that, but something.

Touched that someone would bother to remember her name. Or even find it out, since Clarke was convinced she hadn’t told her herself.

It was just a coincidence that she’d given her the one bar that was her absolute favorite. A total coincidence, surely.

And it was a total coincidence that Clarke hadn’t had breakfast, and had considered just going hungry till she got home.

She didn’t even realize what she did, not really, when she smoothed out the candy wrapper and put it in between her sketchbook. She just did it out of habit.

When she walked into art history that afternoon, she made sure she sat near the entrance, and made sure to pay attention when the brunette finally came in.

She didn’t listen to their whole conversation. Just the part that she needed.

“Lexa, wait-“

_Lexa._

It was an unusual name. Pretty, but unusual.

 _Not that mine’s any less unusual,_ Clarke thought, taking her notebook out and jotting down the day’s date on the top right corner.

She was wearing devil’s horns and a red top. Her brown hair was swept up in a pony tail, effortless and yet somehow so…eye-catching? Attractive?

Clarke shook her head and sighed. Yes, she was attractive, but she was popular. She had friends. She had lots of friends.

Clarke didn’t even have _one_.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t nice to look at. The curve of her neck, her outstretched hand that toyed with her pen while she was listening to the lecture…the muscle tone in her shoulders, in her arms, Clarke knew she would’ve absolutely loved to draw her. But she didn’t, she actually made a conscious effort not to start doodling the pretty brunette in the front row. She didn’t want anyone noticing that she was drawing her, least of all _her_ – that would’ve been her worst nightmare.

She’d been wearing bright red lipstick, too.

Clarke had to really try not to think about that.

 

* * *

 

Come evening, Lexa found herself standing at the end of a street leading to a sleepy suburb, surrounded by dozens and dozens of screaming children.

She was still dressed in the devil costume she’d worn to school – just a t-shirt and the horns, simple and tame enough that no parent would give her a dirty look.

Costia had something else planned for her, or so she’d been told.

But for now, her job was to think about the three children she’d be tasked with carting around the suburb, from house to house, as their sugar high grew in intensity from mildly irritating to absolutely intolerable.

She loved it, anyway. She loved kids, no matter how intolerable they got the more sugar ran through their veins.

“Right, guys,” she smiled, looking at the three kids she’d been assigned. “I’m Lexa. Who are you?”

There was a little boy named Tommy, wearing a TMNT costume with an eye mask that kept malfunctioning and covering his eyes. There was also a girl named Maya, who was dressed like Wonder Woman. She also had her brother with her, a five-year-old named Aden, dressed as Goofy.

He seemed shy and a little afraid, and so Lexa offered to hold his hand.

“I can scare off any baddies, okay?”

Aden looked up at her with wide eyes. “It’s dark.”

“It sure is.”

“There could be monsters.”

“No, not monsters,” Lexa said, trying not to laugh at the cuteness. “Just shadows. They’re not real. See? You’re stepping on my shadow right now.”

Aden frowned, staring at his foot, pondered about it for a bit, and then…nodded. “Ok.”

That was the first of many successful interactions that Lexa had with her kids that evening. They went from house to house, and, though Lexa initially had let the kids trick or treat on their own, she ended up joining in when Aden got too tired to walk. He insisted on being carried on Lexa’s shoulders, and Lexa couldn’t say no to him.

He didn’t even weigh that much, and his giggles about being ‘so tall’ were definitely worth it.

The evening was turning towards an end when they came to the last street in their rounds. Simple houses, more or less decked out for Halloween, lined the street, neat piles of raked leaves on almost each lawn, waiting to be carried away. There were jack-o-lanterns and other spooky decorations, lights and much else, and the only sounds in the night was the chatter of the groups of children with their chaperones going from door to door.

One of the houses was a little less decorated than the rest. They had two jack-o-lanterns on the doorstep, and some fake spiders’ web on the porch, but that was it. Compared to the others, it looked almost…bare.

“I’m not sure if there’s anyone in there,” Lexa began, looking at the lights turned off and the overall empty feel of the house. There was a light on in the living room, but nowhere else.

“Let’s try,” Maya insisted, dragging her along.

They rang the doorbell, and Aden almost poked Lexa in the eye in his attempt to get a better hold of something other than her chin.

Lexa hadn’t expected to see Clarke when the door opened. She didn’t know she lived here, how could she have known, and so, when the door opened to reveal the blonde looking sleepy with her mussed hair and pjs, Lexa was surprised into silence.

The kids, however, weren’t.

“Trick or treat!”

Lexa saw Clarke crack a little smile as she handed the bowl of candy over to each of the kids, letting them take as much as they wanted.

“I have plenty more,” she shrugged, as if to answer Lexa’s curious look. “You can have some too.”

“My hands are a bit pre-occupied,” Lexa said. “Aden?”

Aden reached down and grabbed a piece of candy from the bowl.

“Grab the Milky Way, that’s my favorite,” Lexa said, and smiled again – and missed the slight raise of Clarke’s eyebrows.

“And, what do we say?”

“Thank you-“ cried the kids, in a haphazard chorus driven mostly by their sugar rush.

“Thanks,” Lexa repeated, flashing Clarke another smile before turning and heading down the path to the street. It was just a polite gesture, she had after all given her candy – it was nothing more than that. A reflex.

But to Clarke, it was the most human interaction she’d had all day. And whatever she did that night, she couldn’t get it out of her head.

She couldn’t get the fact that the brunette was very pretty out of her head. Or the fact that her kind heart was more attractive than Clarke dared to admit – seeing her volunteering with kids was about as endearing as she could’ve imagined. 

Her favorite candy was the same, too. It wasn’t so strange, but still…it was a detail that Clarke couldn’t forget.

Clarke wanted to hear more of her voice. For the first time in nearly a year, she’d met someone that she wanted to actually talk to – and more than that, though she wasn’t quite sure of the rest yet.

Having been deprived of normal human interaction for so long, she convinced herself that the stirrings she felt in her heart were just exaggerated because she craved friendship, nothing more. Not that she thought she could ever be Lexa’s friend, not her, not when there were so many other more interesting people in Lexa’s life that she clearly enjoyed being with. The fact that Lexa had seen her in her pjs, on Halloween night, alone at home, was embarrassing enough.

She didn’t mind that she had nothing to do, but she did mind that the one girl she was starting to like at school now knew that she had nothing better to do on Halloween than to sit at home in her pjs watching movies alone.

What she didn’t know was that later, when Lexa was sitting in a cab with her friends on her way to a club, with some drink already souring the taste in her mouth, Lexa thought of her. She thought of Clarke, of the sleepy street and the comfortable pjs she’d been in, no makeup and no effort put into how she looked – just comfort, that had almost poured off of her being, and that was what Lexa craved in that moment. She was envious of the blonde, that she could stay home and watch movies or do whatever, or do nothing at all if she wanted. She didn’t have anyone expecting her to do anything.

She truly wished that had been her.

But that was only for a fleeting moment. The next second, Costia’s hand was on Lexa’s thigh, squeezing it as she excitedly explained what they were going to do that night. All these plans, which, after a few drinks, would be entirely forgotten anyway.

Lexa was dressed as Xena. It was Costia’s idea – she herself was dressed as Missandei from the Game of Thrones, and Octavia, well – Octavia was some character from some video game that neither Lexa or Costia knew of, but she did look very hot.

The effort she’d put into her outfit was explained the second they walked into the club and Lexa saw that the bartender was the one and only Lincoln.

“Subtle, O, subtle,” she laughed, but Octavia just rolled her eyes.

“He’s got all night to look and enjoy the view,” she smirked. “Gotta keep his attention on me, y’know.”

She volunteered to get them drinks, of course.

Lexa wasn’t so sure if she was comfortable with her outfit. It had a lot of moving parts and not a lot of coverage, which she wouldn’t have minded, were they in a gay bar – but this wasn’t one, there were far too many straight men to her liking, and she didn’t quite like the way they were looking at her.

By her third shot, she’d forgotten all about that. She was dancing her mind away, arm wrapped around some girl’s waist that she didn’t really know very well, but she was pretty and had blue eyes that had almost a hypnotic quality to them.

She smelled like whiskey and bad decisions, but she chose her anyway. Just for a short while, just long enough for a steamy make-out session in the club bathroom, which ended when Costia stumbled in, looking like she was two seconds away from being sick.

It was seven and a half seconds, but still, that killed the mood real quick. The girl disappeared, murmuring something about finding her later, and Lexa…well, where else would she go but to hold up her best friend’s hair?

Granted, it almost made her puke, but she didn’t. She stomached it and looked away, rubbed Costia’s back and wondered why the tiles on the wall seemed to be moving.

“I think I’ve tasted death,” Costia groaned, standing up and taking a few stumbling steps. “I’m not even that…drunk.”

Lexa shook her head. “Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

“Cos, you puked.”

“You made out with a girl.”

“Yeah-?”

“That’s some drunk shit right there, you _never_ make out with strangers-“

“Well, today I did,” Lexa sighed, leaning back against the counter and extending her hand towards Costia. “Breath mint?”

“Where did that come from?” Costia frowned, looking all around Lexa’s person. “Your costume doesn’t have pockets.”

Lexa smirked as she raised the skirt of her leather-dress enough to reveal what was essentially a lacy stay-up with a pocket sown in.

“Don’t want my stuff disappearing,” she shrugged, putting the packet of mints back into the pocket. “And nobody’s going to go looking under my skirt for money.”

Costia looked like she was about to say something, but then just laughed and shook her head. “Of course you’d have something like that, Scout.”

“You haven’t called me Scout in years.”

“Well, a scout’s always prepared, and you’re carrying breath mints on your thigh in case you need them. Tell me that doesn’t scream prepared to you,” Costia quipped, tapping Lexa’s nose. “And I’m not complaining, my mouth tastes less worse now."

“Less worse enough to go kiss more strangers?”

“I haven’t kissed a single girl yet tonight, you whore,” Costia laughed – and kissed Lexa’s cheek. “There. One.”

“Now let’s go make sure that number goes up to at least two,” Lexa smiled, ushering Costia out of the bathroom ahead of her.

 

* * *

 

How Lexa ended up in Costia’s bed was a complete mystery to her.

It would’ve been less of a mystery had Costia been there with her.

But she wasn’t.

When Lexa walked out of Costia’s room to find the bathroom, she found Costia, passed out on the couch, with what looked to be a girl underneath her.

They were only partially clothed, so Lexa did the kind thing and draped a blanket over them before going to the bathroom to try and retch her insides out.

She tried to do it as quietly as she could. Not that it was anywhere near successful, her attempts to keep quiet, given that Costia stumbled in around the second time Lexa gagged, and silently sat down beside her and started rubbing her back.

“Had a bit too much,” she mumbled, eyes still half-shut. “Didn’t you?”

“I’m never drinking sweet drinks ever again,” Lexa muttered miserably. “This is awful.”

“I’ll bring you some water.”

By the time Lexa had regained her ability to think and function, the girl on Costia’s couch was gone.

“Gave her a chance to slip out with her dignity,” Costia smirked, cradling her cup of coffee in her hand. “Hid in my bedroom when I saw she was about to wake up.”

“What’s her name?”

“I don’t know,” Costia shrugged. “Amy. Or Katie. She’s from that college across town, so it’s not like I’m going to see her again…”

“Katie? The girl I made out with?”

“No, not her, she was blonde,” Costia shook her head.

“She was?”

In all honesty, Lexa couldn’t remember.

Costia just laughed, and, after a few minutes, asked if she wanted to go to brunch.

“O and Raven and everyone else will be there.”

Lexa still felt a little bit like death, but shrugged. “Sure. Let me steal some of your clothes, though. I’m not going in this-“ she said, gesturing to her dress. “I don’t think it’s Sunday morning appropriate.”

“It definitely isn’t,” Costia laughed. “And I’ll do something about your face, too.”

“What’s wrong with my face?”

“You’ve got major panda-eye going on. I can’t let you go out looking like that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> friday, fri-yay!
> 
> a new chapter for you lovelies. hope you enjoy it!

In late November, the weather took a drastic turn for the worse. The rain turned to icy sleet, and the wind picked up till it was nearly impossible to walk outside for more than a few minutes without freezing to the bone.

It was an early winter storm, they said. It would get better.

Lexa wasn’t so sure about that. She wasn’t that big a fan of the cold, having hands that seemed to lose all heat the second the weather dropped anywhere near freezing. The tip of her nose, too, felt cold when she walked to the library, icy cold, and nothing seemed to get it warm.

She’d promised Anya she’d wait till later so they could drive home together. When she’d promised that, it had been nice out – it had been the week before, the sun had been shining, and it had been crisp beautiful fall mornings and breezy sunny afternoons.

Now, she was cold. And miserable. And stuck on campus for at least another five hours while Anya had her lab practical.

“Stupid damn biochem,” Lexa muttered as she skipped up the steps towards the third floor of the library. “Better hurry up.”

There was a reading lounge on the third floor that not many used. It was mostly because it was at the farther end of the library, and because it was surrounded by books on geology and geochemistry. Only a few had actual reason to go there.

Lexa had discovered it was the perfect spot to hang out by herself during her first year. None of her friends ever came there, nobody did, not even the librarians, so she could get away with eating snacks and drinking her hot tea like she was now – not to mention the fact that there were bean bags and a couch set up right next to a heater.

When she got up there, though, she found that the spot she’d been fantasizing about for the better part of the day was occupied.

And not just by anyone, but by the elusive blonde that Lexa hadn’t seen since Halloween.

She looked…well, not fine. Her nose was a little red, and she looked like she should’ve been in bed resting, not at school; but even looking like that, she was still endearing. In a way. Lexa had figured she had to be sick when she hadn’t shown up to art history for a whole week. Not that she noticed…but she did.

When she sat down, on a chair as near as she dared without disturbing her, Clarke looked up. On recognizing her, Lexa saw a bit of hesitation – and so, was the first to initiate conversation.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Clarke replied, forcing a little smile.

And that was it. Lexa laid back, still shivering from the cold, and pulled out her books. Clarke looked back down at what she’d been doing, and, though Lexa tried her best to focus on herself, she couldn’t help but look over.

She was writing – no, drawing, she was sketching something into a sketchbook in her lap. She was so concentrated and yet so relaxed it was almost mesmerizing to watch on it’s own, but Lexa really wished she could see what she was drawing. Just out of curiosity.

“If you move your foot you’ll spill your tea.”

Lexa looked up at Clarke, almost surprised that she’d spoken, and then moved her foot away from where she had indeed almost been about to spill her thermos mug.

“Thanks, that would’ve been pretty bad, huh?”

The little laugh that Clarke let out seemed to dispel some of the awkward air between them. “Yeah, it would’ve.”

It wasn’t uncomfortable, being quiet. Anything but. It was so comfortable and natural that Lexa forgot time was even passing – she just read her book, aware that she wasn’t alone, and yet, felt no pressure to speak. Or to do…anything. She just was.

The rain and the sleet rammed into the window. The clock on the wall ticked away.

Somewhere down the way, a guy coughed. Pages were turned here and there, the fluttering noise seeming to circulate the room like an echo.

It was quiet, but it was not.

And it was the most peaceful Lexa had felt in a long, long time.

* * *

Maybe an hour passed before Clarke dared to look up again. When she did, she couldn’t help but let out a little laugh – Lexa, curled up on the arm chair, had fallen asleep. Her book teetered on top of her knee, so precariously it seemed a miracle that it hadn’t fallen. Her reading glasses had slid down to the very tip of her nose, her hand rested on her thigh so calm and still. Brown locks of hair, fallen from her messy bun, framed her face, and her mouth hung just slightly ajar.

Her lips, pink and plump, drew Clarke’s eyes for a few moments too many.

The overwhelming desire she had to just look longer, to memorize every detail of her face, was too much. She forced herself to look away, to stare at the odd pattern on the carpet, and let out a long sigh.

_She wouldn’t want you._

She knew she was right. Or knew she had to be right.

And besides…she didn’t really want her. She was just interested, because this girl seemed to find interest in her – and Clarke, above all else, couldn’t figure out why. She’d exchanged only a few words with her, and their interactions beyond that had been barely anything to speak of.

Her phone, hidden somewhere deep in her bag, let out the faintest buzzing noise. As quietly as she could, Clarke set her pens aside, and reached into her bag, doing her best not to wake the sleeping brunette by her.

**(Mom, 4:37 p.m.)**

_You done with classes? I can give you a ride to therapy._

**(Clarke, 4:38 p.m.)**

_Yeah. I’ll be down in a few._

Clarke glanced up at Lexa and sighed. She half didn’t even want to go.

She never really _wanted_ to go, anyway. But her mother insisted, and it wasn’t _so_ terrible anymore.

It wasn’t too frequent, anyway. Once every two weeks.

She liked her doctor, too. If she hadn’t liked her, she wouldn’t have lasted a week, let alone a year.

When packing her things, she managed to upend her pencil case onto the floor. That roused Lexa, and, in her start to wake, her book fell to the floor with a soft thump.

“You going somewhere?” she asked as she took her reading glasses off and set them aside.

“Yeah, home,” Clarke replied, lying just a little. “My mom’s picking me up.”

She was unsure why she told her more than she needed to know.

“That’s good, in this weather,” Lexa yawned, nodding towards the window. “Here,” she then said, handing Clarke a pencil. “It was under my book.”

Clarke took the pencil and found herself once again unable to avoid returning Lexa’s warm smile. “Thanks.”

“Well, I’ll see you around.”

Clarke picked up her backpack and nodded. “I’ll see you.”

She left the library with a happy feeling and the picture of Lexa’s smile in her head. Even her mom noticed, when she got in the car, that she was in a good mood.

Better than she’d been in a long time.

“How was school?”

Clarke shrugged. “It was fine.”

That was what she always said, but today, her tone was just ever-so-slightly different. Though Clarke didn’t notice it, Abby smiled a little, happy that Clarke seemed even a little closer to her normal self.

“What do you want for dinner today?”

“Something easy,” Clarke yawned. “I’m tired.”

“You didn’t sleep last night.”

Clarke chose not to lie, and so said nothing.

Abby just sighed. “You should at least try.”

“I do…I just got caught up drawing.”

That was partly true. The whole truth was that she hadn’t been able to sleep, and had started drawing to pass the time – and then, the next thing she knew, it had been morning.

She’d had double the amount of coffee she usually had, a little extra concealer under her eyes, and gone off for the day.

“Maybe tacos? I’ll go shopping while I wait.”

“Tacos sound good.”

“Grey’s is on tonight.”

Clarke chuckled. “I still can’t believe you love that show.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, it’s great,” Clarke amended. “Just…you also make fun of it.”

“I’m a doctor. Of course I’m going to make fun of it.”

Clarke just rolled her eyes and looked out of the window.

_Today wasn’t that bad of a day after all._

 

* * *

 

When Clarke came back to her corner in the library four days later, she found Lexa there. Papers and books spread out, sitting cross-legged on the couch, looking positively confused.

“Oh, hey,” she said, moving a little when she noticed Clarke. “I’m not taking up your spot, am I?”

Clarke shook her head. “No, you’re fine.”

She sat down, pulled out her art history textbook, and sighed. It was tedious work that she didn’t want to get to.

“What are you up to?”

The fact that Clarke had asked Lexa a question almost flew right by her. She hadn’t known to expect it, and so, Clarke almost got to thinking she hadn’t heard her when the brunette looked up from her handout and replied.

“Philosophy paper. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Looks…awful,” Clarke commented, looking at all the books piled up around Lexa.

“Tell me about it,” Lexa groaned, taking off her reading glasses and rubbing at the bridge of her nose. “I’m tired. And hungry.”

“I have cookies.”

Clarke had said it out loud before she’d really thought much of it. She wasn’t even sure if she had meant to offer Lexa a cookie, but she’d said it, and it was now too late to back out.

“Really? Home-made?”

“Yeah,” Clarke nodded, pulling out the bag. “My mom made them yesterday. You want one?”

“Are you kidding? I’d love one.”

Lexa’s mouth watered at the sight of the cookie Clarke handed her, though she kept that information to herself. She was seriously starving, having finished her snacks hours ago, and had been procrastinating getting lunch for the better part of an hour until Clarke had showed up.

“This is seriously the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life,” Lexa told her, licking some half-melted chocolate off of her thumb. “I’m not kidding.”

“You can have some more, I’ve had so many that I think I might get sick,” Clarke smiled, putting the bag on the table between them.

“Seriously?”

Clarke nodded. “She made like six dozen cookies yesterday. There’s only two of us.”

The slight falter in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Lexa, but she chose not to pry. She had only just gotten Clarke to talk with her – she wasn’t going to get into any deep personal things just yet.

She didn’t know what she wanted, other than that Clarke seemed nice. Kind, nice to talk to, and interesting. And calm. She just wanted more of her being around.

For a few long moments, there was silence between the two of them. Lexa gathered up the courage to take another cookie, but dared not to take a third, feeling like it would’ve been rude. Clarke, on the other hand, didn’t even notice that Lexa kept looking at her – she was focusing on her reading, as hard as she could, trying to take in the significance of different symbolisms in later Renaissance paintings in a way that would also stick in her brain for longer than an hour or two. She didn’t notice that Lexa tried to start conversation a few times, though she didn’t actually say a word – but there were a few instances where Lexa opened her mouth, about to say something, and then chose not to, not wanting to disturb her.

But as sometimes happens, things conspire without much external effort put into them. Clarke took a break from her reading, looked at her phone, saw something funny, let out a little laugh – and, on noticing Lexa’s expression of curiosity, showed her as well.

It was just a video of a puppy stumbling down some stairs, but it was cute. And it served as an ice-breaker, too.

“I wish I had a dog.”

Lexa nodded in agreement. “I wish I did too.”

She took out her phone, scrolled down a little, and then showed Clarke a picture of herself surrounded by maybe twenty dogs. “I volunteer at a dog shelter, sometimes. Just walking them and stuff. That’s how much I want a dog.”

Clarke couldn’t help but smile. “That’s so…unselfish. Saintly.”

“Saintly? I’m using the shelter to satisfy my dog-cuddling needs,” Lexa smirked. “You could almost say I’m taking advantage.”

“You do a lot of volunteer work.”

Clarke maybe didn’t pay much attention to everyone at school, but even she hadn’t been able to avoid noticing that Lexa was involved in a lot of things. Student ambassador work, handing out candy on Halloween, helping out during graduations, carrying chairs and tables…there was a lot that she did.

It was admirable, in it’s own way.

The afternoon went by like that. They didn’t talk all the time, but every now and then, something came up – one time, Lexa asked Clarke whether she believed rocks could think, another time Clarke asked Lexa about an art history lecture she’d missed…it was easy. And comfortable.

“You know, for someone who tries so hard to avoid everyone, you’re not too bad,” Lexa told Clarke, when she was packing her things up to leave.

“I don’t try that hard,” Clarke muttered. “It’s just…I don’t know.”

“No, you don’t need to explain yourself. I’m just glad that, well…we can talk. ‘Cause you’re pretty cool.”

After thanking Clarke for keeping her company, she went her way.

Later that evening, Clarke noticed a friend request from Lexa on Facebook. It was at least a week old, but she hadn’t looked at the site for months, so it wasn’t that she’d ignored it – she just didn’t care to look at it any more.

She accepted the request and did no more with it.

The next day, however, she noticed she’d been tagged in something.

A cat video, of a cat walking over a painting and leaving paw prints all over.

Lexa had added some emojis and nothing more to the comment she’d tagged Clarke in. She hadn’t thought much of it, just that she’d thought it was funny and had wanted Clarke to see.

Clarke thought it was funny too, but didn’t know how to respond. And so she just liked Lexa’s comment, put her phone away, and tried not to smile.

Emphasis on tried. She did smile, a little, but there was no one around to see.

 

* * *

 

The last day of November was a rainy one. Grey skies, dull light glowing through, and icy cold rain, drenching the city and any of those who dared venture out.

Lexa had taken the car that morning, and was so glad she had – when she got out of her lecture, the weather was absolutely abysmal, the rain pouring down so hard she had to run to get to her car, and still couldn’t avoid getting soaked. For a moment, she watched the students running to their cars or to the cover of the bus stop, and pitied the few she saw carrying umbrellas and trying their best to stay dry as they tried to walk home.

She loved fall, with it’s pretty colors and crisp mornings and even the rain – but sometimes, she just wanted to curl up at home with a blanket and sit there with a cup of tea in her hands and ignore the weather outside.

She had promised to go to Octavia’s for a movie night. It sounded fun, and she was definitely looking forward to it – pj’s, popcorn, pizza, probably some booze, and ridiculous movies probably picked out by Octavia, that they could make fun of her for.

As she drove down towards her house to drop off her things, she thought much of nothing. Her eyes looked around on the empty road, at the abandoned park and the dark grey clouds hanging overhead, not really fixing on anything at all.

But then she saw a figure. And then, as she came closer, she recognized the blue jacket, and the blonde hair, and so by the time she was beside her, Lexa already knew it was Clarke.

She looked like she was struggling. Lexa wasn’t surprised that she was. It was raining, and cold, and she didn’t look prepared for either. She hadn’t noticed when Lexa had pulled up beside her, and so Lexa had to roll down the passenger side window to yell at her.

“Clarke!”

Clarke jumped and looked to the side, and saw Lexa, gesturing for her to come closer.

“You need a ride home? I’m going your way.”

It was cold, she was completely soaked, and she was miserable.

Of course she said yes.

Lexa watched as Clarke climbed in to the car, a bouquet of flowers in her hand, and smiled. “Terrible weather, huh?”

“Yeah…thanks, by the way.”

Lexa started off and didn’t say anything for a short while.

“So…who are the flowers for? Someone special?”

She’d meant it as kind conversation, but instead saw Clarke’s eyes cloud over with what looked like sadness.

She was quiet for a long while, looking as though she was pondering over something, and then, when she did answer, her voice was incredibly small.

“They’re for my dad’s grave.”

A pang of guilt hit Lexa’s heart when she heard that. What she’d meant as a few kind words had clearly done the exact opposite, and she’d instead said something completely inappropriate.

“Oh, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“No, it’s okay,” Clarke sighed. “It’s not like you knew.”

“Is…is that where you’re going?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want me to drive you to the cemetery?”

Clarke wasn’t prepared for an offer like that. The cemetery wasn’t far off from her house, and she’d just figured she’d walk the rest of the way – but Lexa sounded completely sincere.

She wouldn’t have been walking in the first place, had her bus not been a no-show. She was tired as was, she really hadn't been happy about the idea of having to walk; being offered a ride all the way was just about the perfect answer to a plea she didn't know she'd made.

“I…if you want to, you don’t have to-“

“No, please, it’s not like I’m in a rush,” Lexa said, the tone of her voice kind and gentle. “It’s what friends would do, right?”

_Friends?_

Clarke didn’t respond to that, just smiled shyly, nodded, and looked out of the window for the rest of the drive. She hadn’t even thought that she could have company here, she’d thought she’d be alone for the day, alone with her thoughts…but she wasn’t.

It wasn’t a bad thing, not being alone.

Her heart felt a little bit lighter. And that was a good thing.

When they came to the cemetery, Clarke was genuinely surprised to find Lexa actually parking her car. She’d thought she would just drop her off, and head to wherever she was going – but no, Lexa parked her car, turned off the engine, leaned back, and shrugged when she saw Clarke’s quizzical look.

“I promised you a ride home, didn’t I?”

Clarke frowned. “Well, I figured you wouldn’t want to come-“

“I won’t come with you to the grave, that’s…your time,” Lexa assured her. “Unless you want me to?”

“No, I’m fine,” Clarke told her. “Thanks.”

“You should take my umbrella,” Lexa remembered, reaching to the back to grab it.

“Thanks,” Clarke said, again.

“I’ll be here. I have snacks, and a book,” Lexa smiled. “Take your time.”

It was such a kind gesture to Clarke that tears welled up in her eyes. She got out of the car quickly to avoid Lexa seeing them, she didn’t want to cry in front of her – but still, it was heartwrenchingly kind, in a way that just made her heart ache.

Lexa didn’t see it that way. She just saw it as something nice that she could do for Clarke.

She’d forgotten all about the movie night, all about her friends – they were fine, they could wait. Clarke was alone…she needed someone right now more than they did. And Lexa happened to be there, so she stepped up.

She would’ve done it for anyone.

But it did help that she was doing it for Clarke.

She hadn’t known that Clarke’s dad was dead. It did explain a lot, from the odd falters in her voice whenever she talked about her mom or just the ‘two of us’, to the overall sad mood that never seemed to fully leave her. The somber look in her eyes, the occasional tired sighs…even the way she seemed to withdraw not because of shyness but something else, it all made sense, in some way or another.

She’d figured there was something pressing on Clarke, some sort of weight on her shoulders, but hadn’t found a way to ask or even hint at it in a way that would enlighten her.

In the end, this was quite possibly the best way she could have found out.

* * *

Clarke knew the way to the grave by heart. She didn’t need to look, her feet knew the way – they crossed gravel paths and grass lawns, covered in the last leaves of autumn, till she came to a light grey headstone.

The flowers she’d brought the week before had wilted, and she replaced them with the new ones she’d brought – white roses this time. Her dad had loved roses.

She cleared the near vicinity of the grave of leaves, wiped the stone down with a tissue, and lit a new candle in the lantern set by it.

She didn’t cry loud, nor did she cry hard. But tears fell as she did this, silent tears, which mixed with the rain falling on her face, drawing lines of warmth along her cold cheeks before falling to the ground. She wiped at her nose, let out a little sob, and then, knelt on the ground, all energy draining from her at once.

The knees of her jeans were soaked and muddy in an instant, but she didn’t care. She didn’t have the energy to. She leaned her hands on her thighs, putting all weight on them, and bowed her head, her shoulders trembling and shaking as she let the sobs out, feeling as safe as she could, away from everything and everyone. She felt better crying here than she did at home, where she was always afraid her mother would come knocking when she heard her crying. She didn’t want that. She just wanted to be at peace.

She just needed to let it out, get it out of her system, and she’d be fine. For some time, at least.

It didn’t hurt so raw any more. It wasn’t constant, it was just whenever she thought of him, or anyone’s death – which was still often, but not all the time. It was getting better, she knew that.

She knew that in another year, she’d be even better. And she was happy about that, but for now, she was happy to grieve. She was happy to take her time, to allow herself time to be sad, to withdraw and take time for herself to just…be.

She had faith that she’d have all her energy again, some day.

Just not right now.

* * *

When Clarke came back, she didn’t talk much. Not that Lexa expected her to – she took back her umbrella, gave her a reassuring smile, and then drove her home without a word. She noticed Clarke’s red puffy eyes, and knew she’d been crying, but didn’t mention it. She noticed that Clarke’s jeans were muddy, noticed that she was shivering, but said nothing of it – she just drove her home.

When Clarke got out of the car, she thanked Lexa with a weak smile.

That would’ve been enough to make it all worth it.

But, just when Lexa was about to start off again, Clarke came back to the car and knocked on the window.

“Yeah?”

Clarke handed her a piece of paper. “In case, you know…you ever want to talk. Or something. I don’t know.”

She hurried off before Lexa had time to register what had happened. She sat there, rain falling into her car, with a piece of paper in her hand – and, on that piece of paper, a phone number.

Clarke’s phone number.

When Costia and Octavia later demanded to know why Lexa had come a whole two hours late, Lexa just shrugged it off. She didn’t want to say it was because she’d been at the cemetery with Clarke. And she especially didn’t want to say that after leaving Clarke’s house, she’d just driven around for nearly an hour, just relaxing, enjoying the feel of driving in the rain with nobody in sight.

It felt like a secret though she had no particular reason to keep it. But she felt like she couldn’t really justify her actions, either, not to her two best friends – and so, she just shrugged it off and made up some excuse that she knew neither of them would buy.

“Well, she’s keeping secrets,” Costia huffed, mildly annoyed. “But I guess we can’t force them out of her.”

Octavia just shrugged. “She’s not telling us…eh, it doesn’t matter. She’s here now.”

“Exactly,” Lexa smiled, trying to move the conversation along to something else. “Let’s just talk about something else. What have you guys been up to?”

Later, when she was laying on Octavia’s couch, with everyone fast asleep, Lexa added Clarke’s number into her phone.

She considered sending her a text for a very long time before finally deciding to do it. And then spent a good few minutes trying to think of what to send, something that didn’t sound lame.

_(Lexa, 11:06 p.m.)_

**Figured I’d text you so you’d have my number too. -Lexa**

She didn’t expect a response so soon, but, when her phone buzzed, her heart leapt just a little.

_(Clarke, 11:10 p.m.)_

**Thanks. And thank you for today.**

_(Lexa, 11:11 p.m.)_

**You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.**

She turned to her side, laid her phone down on the floor, and soon fell asleep, feeling very happy with herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update friday is back again!  
> enjoy my bbies

A week later, Lexa woke up to find out that she was late to class. Very late.

So late, in fact, that there was no point in even waking up. It was midday, all her lectures had already finished. All she could really do at this point was groan. And send an accusing text to the person who was responsible for her sleeping in.

_(Lexa, 12:31 p.m.)_

**I’m never letting you practice bartending on me ever again.**

Costia replied almost immediately.

_(Costia, 12:32 p.m.)_

**It’s not like I poured those drinks down your throat. You just didn’t listen when I told you they were very potent.**

_(Lexa, 12:32 p.m.)_

**They should come with a warning label.**

_(Costia, 12:33 p.m.)_

**You should come with a warning label.**

Lexa just grumbled and shut her eyes, feeling the headache worsen as she sat up.

When she was closing the app, she noticed another text, not from Costia.

_(Clarke, 08:14 a.m.)_

**We’re doing a partner project for homework in art history together. Prof assigned the partners. Figured I’d tell you since you missed class.**

_(Lexa, 12:34 p.m.)_

**Slept in. Massive hangover. You want to meet up some time today?**

**About the project, I mean.**

She didn’t reply immediately. Lexa didn’t expect her to. She got up, downed a glass of water, and stumbled into the shower, determined to get herself feeling fresh and alive again.

So when she returned to her bedroom smelling like zesty citrus and feeling more alive than dead, she was pretty happy. She dressed in some comfortable clothes, tied her hair up out of her way, and grabbed her phone, expecting to find a bunch of texts from Costia.

But there was only one, and it was from Clarke.

Her heart may have done a little leap when she saw who the text was from.

Not that it meant anything.

_(Clarke, 12:41 p.m.)_

**You sure? If you’re hungover?**

_(Lexa, 12:57 p.m.)_

**I’m busy tomorrow. You could come over to my place? My sister’s out.**

**Or there’s a nice corner cafe downstairs?**

**They have the best chocolate chip scones.**

_(Clarke, 12:59 p.m.)_

**Wait, I think I know where that is.**

**Corner of Boulevard and Terrace St.?**

_(Lexa, 01:01 p.m.)_

**That’s where I live.**

**When would you be free?**

_(Clarke, 01:02 p.m.)_

**3 pm sound okay?**

_(Lexa, 01:03 p.m.)_

**Sounds great. See you then!**

 

* * *

 

Clarke set her phone down after reading the last text and sighed. When she’d heard in class that there was a partner project, she’d almost felt sick to her stomach – but when she’d heard her partner was Lexa, all that nausea had just melted away.

The front row had been suspiciously empty that morning. Clarke had figured it had to be a hangover or something of the like, considering the three girls who usually sat together were all absent. They seemed to be a tight-knit group – she rarely saw Lexa around without at least one of them with her. It seemed Lexa was rarely alone; the few times she'd seen Lexa alone, she had been with her, so Clarke wasn't so sure if that even counted.

She’d texted Lexa on a whim, just to tell her that they were partners for the project.

It wasn’t anything more than that.

And now, she was going to see Lexa in two hours. She’d given up her exciting plans of doing absolutely nothing, and didn’t even feel bothered by it – if anything, she was a little excited. She was happy that she had a reason to go out of the house, an excuse to see Lexa; she was grateful that she had something actual to do instead of just sitting around the house feeling bored.

She wasn’t even annoyed that she had to change out of her pj’s into something presentable.

Hell, she even bothered to reapply her makeup.

_Just so she doesn’t think I’m some gremlin,_ she told herself, though she knew it was more than that. She knew, but didn’t think of it any more – she was happy to let it just be.

And so, about a later, much to her mother’s astonishment, she left the house to head to the café.

She got there early, twenty minutes early to be precise, and bought herself a coffee and a chocolate chip scone before finding herself a seat.

She was initially drawn to the very corner booth, but, on walking up to it, realized it was nowhere visible from the door. Had she been alone, it would have been ideal – but she thought of Lexa, and figured she might not find her, and opted for a booth closer to the door instead.

The sun shone through the window, and there were Christmas lights hanging right above the table, so it wasn’t all bad. There was some soft piano music playing on the radio, something new-agey and calming; the atmosphere, overall, was calming. 

Lexa came in precisely at 3 o’ clock. When she spotted Clarke, her face lit up, and she came over to leave her backpack before going off to get herself something to drink.

Once she’d gotten her herbal tea and lemon cake, she sat down across from Clarke.

“You didn’t have to wait long, did you?”

Clarke, who had already finished her cup of coffee, shook her head. “Not much. I came here early.”

“That’s beautiful,” Lexa commented on Clarke’s sketch of the flower on their table. “You’re really talented.”

Clarke shrugged. “Or I just have too much time on my hands.”

“Willingness to practice is a good quality,” Lexa quipped, setting down her notebook and laptop. “Now, what’s this project?”

* * *

 

The afternoon went by quick and slow, both at the same time. Clarke had to switch to drinking an iced tea after her second cup of coffee, when she started feeling a little bit too awake. Lexa bought them nachos off the ‘secret menu’ around five, which wasn’t really secret, just that she knew the owner and knew he wouldn’t mind making a dinner item an hour early for his best customer.

Lexa did a lot of the talking, though Clarke did manage to hold her own – though at times she fell deep into thought, she didn’t feel uncomfortable just talking, chatting about nonsense, and laughing. It felt simple, it felt easy; it was the most fun she'd had in a while.

Lexa was overwhelmingly glad to be drawing Clarke out of her shell. She wasn’t so sure what was so exciting about her; she just seemed to have captured her interest without even really trying. Perhaps it was the fact that she wasn’t trying so hard to be her friend, or perhaps it was the fact that Clarke was a bit of a challenge. maybe it was the fact that Clarke seemed lonely, and Lexa felt a little bad – or, maybe, just maybe, it was something that Lexa was yet to acknowledge.

But what she did know was that Clarke was refreshingly comfortable. With Clarke, she didn’t have to try or think, she just talked about nonsense and it was easy – and she really, really enjoyed that.

“I have some things to do this week,” Lexa sighed. “And it’s due when, next Tuesday?”

“Yeah. But we’ve got most of it done, so…”

“Well, hey,” Lexa began, remembering that Anya was leaving for the weekend. “I’ve got the house to myself all weekend. Maybe you could come over on Saturday? Pizza and finishing touches on our project?”

Lexa didn’t realize that Clarke had to actually fight to not say yes immediately when she said it. She just saw Clarke think for a bit, and then, a nod.

“Sounds good. When on Saturday?”

“I don’t know, whenever. Six?”

Clarke nodded again, and wrote it down on her hand.

“You’ll get ink poisoning, you know.”

“That’s a myth.”

“It is?”

Clarke left shortly after, and Lexa stayed there, watching her walk down the street for a good while.

She was already looking forward to Saturday. She’d never been this excited about an art history project in her life, but the afternoon she’d spent with Clarke had been a promise of something – of friendship, of something, with Clarke, and Lexa wanted more of it. She wanted to see Clarke smile more, she wanted to hear more about her, she just wanted to talk…and, though she knew she had wonderful friends already, she couldn’t help but feel that Clarke was something else.

 

* * *

 

The week went by agonizingly slow for Clarke. She did little more than nothing, other than complete yet another drawing of Lexa, done from memory – she’d given up on resisting and ended up drawing her, and painting her once, and now, found herself doodling details of her in the margins of her notes whenever she wasn’t thinking.

At home, she watched tv, laid around, tried reading books and never succeeded. She took long walks through the nearby park, hands shoved into her pockets, her face half covered up by her large scarf – it was December, Christmas was coming up, and it was cold. Winter had crept in almost as though by surprise; one morning, the world had just awoken to find that the cold rainy winds of autumn had given way to the biting breeze of winter.

She liked walking around the neighbourhood in the evenings when it was dark. The Christmas lights were up, like thousands of little stars, some yellow, some white, some multi-colored, shining in the dark wintry night. And the houses, their windows were like scenes of family bliss, their warm glow casting their light onto the street, making the darkness around them look a little blue.

When she breathed out, her breath came out as a billowing cloud of white, floating up above her head like smoke. As the nights grew colder, she began seeing the ground grow sparkly – the ice, the frost, it twinkled in the light of the streetlamps, as though someone had cast a blanket of glitter all over the ground.

She loved the prickling cold pinching at her cheeks and biting at her nose, she loved winter overall – she loved the calm of it, and the quiet, and the promise of colder mornings, the breath of ice and the whispered beginnings of snowfall. She loved her solitary walks, too, roaming through the empty parks, seeing the trees, bare and waiting their snowy blankets, and being the only person around.

It gave her a sense of belonging and peace that she had grown accustomed to craving.

On Saturday, Clarke packed her things up into her bag, and headed out, not for a walk, but to see Lexa. She was a little bit excited, or a lot, and so didn’t notice at first that there was a bitter smell in the air. Snow was about to fall, but she knew nothing of it yet. The darkness was already creeping in as she cut through a park to get to Lexa’s place faster – she’d left a little late, at quarter to six, and knew she wouldn’t make it on time.

As she approached Lexa’s apartment building, she heard the faint thud of music. As she came closer, it became clear that it was coming from the building – and, as she got to the stairwell, it became extremely clear to Clarke that there was a party going on.

She’d already climbed up to the third floor landing, and was standing behind the door which she was sure was Lexa’s – 3B – and it was exactly the door behind which the music was coming from. And the sound of people. Lots of people.

Clarke sighed and took out her phone, intending to text Lexa – maybe she’d gotten the time wrong, or the house, or the stair.

She hadn’t noticed that her phone had been on silent.

She’d missed a few texts, and one call, from Lexa.

_(Lexa, 04:51 p.m.)_

**Clarke, I’m so sorry, I can’t make it today.**

**My friends commandeered my apartment for a party.**

**I can’t get them to leave.**

_(Lexa, 05:30 p.m.)_

**Clarke?**

**You there?**

_One missed call from Lexa_

Clarke groaned, disappointed and annoyed – she knew it wasn’t Lexa’s fault, she had tried to call her and texted her. She just should’ve checked her phone.

“Ugh, why,” she groaned, “Why am I _such_ an idiot?”

She turned on her heel, bitter disappointment burning on the tip of her tongue, and headed back towards the stairs.

She’d only gotten down a few when the door to the apartment opened.

Instinctively, she turned to look – and found herself looking straight at Lexa.

“Clarke!” Lexa cried, astonished. “What- hey! Hi!”

She was drunk, Clarke could see that much. And dressed very nicely, in jeans and a shirt that revealed too much of her arms and chest. Way too much.

She was wearing red lipstick again, too.

“Hey,” Clarke replied, walking back up the stairs to meet her. “I didn’t see your texts until now, I- yeah.”

Lexa noticed that she looked disappointed. She noticed the hunched shoulders, the slight sad look in her eye, and, knowing Clarke had probably been looking forward to hanging out, felt incredibly bad.

“I’m so so sorry,” she said, a little bit too loud. “Octavia and Costia heard that my apartment was free, and it’s O’s birthday tomorrow, so- you know, there wasn’t much I could do about it. But I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine, Lexa, really,” Clarke said, offering her a bit of a smile. “Don’t worry yourself about it.”

“Not like I wanted this,” Lexa sighed. “I’m too tired for this.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“A party. Right now.”

There was a moment of silence, during which neither of them knew what to say or do – Lexa was leaning against the wall, looking at Clarke, while Clarke was doing her best to look anywhere but at Lexa. Her eyes were sending shivers down her spine, and she didn't like it. She didn't like feeling...well. She didn't like feeling, for Lexa. Not when she was certain there wouldn't be any mutual feelings.

“I guess I’ll go,” she finally sighed, turning back to head down the stairs.

“Home? Alone?”

“Yeah?”

Lexa shook her head. “No, I can’t let you do that, no,” she said, glancing over her shoulder and then back at Clarke. “What if you run into some psycho? It’s dark out.”

“It’s a twenty minute walk. It’s six in the evening. I’ll be fine.”

“Let me walk you home,” Lexa insisted, disappearing into the apartment and emerging mere seconds later with a coat. “Please, it’s the least I can do. I made you come out here for nothing.”

Clarke looked at her curiously, but didn’t say no – and so, Lexa followed her down the stairs.

“Your choice,” Clarke told her, smiling a little as she noticed Lexa had even brought a beanie and some mittens.

She looked too cute. 

“My hands are always cold,” she explained.

For a while, they walked in silence. But then Lexa, being a little bit drunk, or a lot, couldn’t keep silent any longer – and gave in.

“I would’ve rather had pizza with you than a stupid party.”

To Clarke, hearing that was enough to make her feel at least a little bit drunk herself.

“Really?”

“You have it all,” Lexa told her, shoving her hands deep into her pockets. “You can stay home on Fridays and just…chill. In your pj’s. No night clubs, no friends dragging you out on Sunday mornings for brunches when you’d just rather sleep in and do nothing because you’ve been doing things every day and night for the past two weeks…”

“But don’t you like that?” Clarke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I do, but not _all_ the time,” Lexa sighed. “I wish I could live your life for a month.”

“No, you don’t.”

Clarke’s voice was small and quiet when she said that, and Lexa failed to resist the urge she had when she heard it. She wrapped one arm around Clarke, just a friendly gesture, and gave her a little one-sided hug.

“I guess I’m talking about things I don’t understand,” she said in a kind tone.

“Maybe,” Clarke shrugged. “I like to keep to myself.”

“I’ve noticed. Not that it’s bad.”

“No.”

For a while, they walked along, neither of them speaking. Snow had begun to fall, first only a few glittering flecks of ice, but slowly, it increased in number and volume, till they were caught in the middle of a gentle flurry of snowflakes the size of flower-petals.

“It’s very pretty out.”

Clarke glanced at Lexa, who had snowflakes in her dark hair and in her lashes, and nodded.

She may have been thinking something else was very pretty. Or _someone_.

“I love snow.”

“I do too,” Lexa sighed, turning her eyes up at the sky. “It’s hypnotic to watch.”

The snow fell around them, it was entirely silent, and Clarke found it so incredibly beautiful that she wished she could just remember the moment forever. She wished she could just take a snapshot of how she was feeling, what she was seeing, and hearing, and keep it with her forever – but she couldn’t, and so instead she just soaked up the moment, breathed it in till she could no more, and let out a long, happy sigh.

They walked along again in the increasingly whitening streets. But this time round, it was Clarke who broke the silence.

“Why don’t you just…take some time for yourself?”

Lexa looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You said you wished you could have my life,” Clarke shrugged, turning her eyes to the ground ahead. “That you could just do what you wanted. Who’s stopping you?”

Now it was Lexa’s turn to shrug. She shoved her hands deeper into her pockets, and sighed. “No one, really. It’s just…expectations. And I don’t want to say no to my friends, because they’ve been my friends for so long…”

Clarke nodded, and didn’t interrupt, and so, pushed by the whiskey warming up her stomach, Lexa kept going.

“I just don’t know how to relax, I guess. How to unwind, to just let go and be off the grid for an afternoon or a day, or a week. I just don’t know how to.”

_I don’t know how to be alone._

As they came up to Clarke’s street, Clarke thought about Lexa’s words.

She thought about something she wanted to say. She thought it over, wondered what the end result could be, thought it over and over till she was going in circles – and then, made a decision.

“Do you have to go back?”

“Huh?”

Lexa was standing on Clarke’s porch, hands in pockets, looking at Clarke in confusion.

“Do you have to go back to the party?” Clarke repeated, feeling a little shy. Worried, even.

“Well, no…” Lexa replied.

They may have been her best friends, but she knew very well they wouldn’t notice she was gone. Octavia, the last time she’d seen her, had been giggling on the couch with Lincoln. And Costia? Lexa was pretty sure she was still locked in the bathroom with some girl.

“Do you want to go?”

To that, Lexa could answer immediately. “God, no.”

“Do you want to stay here?”

“What?”

Clarke almost took her words back. For a fleeting second, she thought she saw disgust and rejection in Lexa’s eyes – but she was wrong, she realized soon that it was just a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

“You can stay here for a while,” Clarke added quickly. “We can still order that pizza. You can relax, or unwind, or whatever it was you said-?”

Lexa was finally starting to understand what Clarke was saying. “Yeah, um, I mean- you sure?”

“It’s what friends do, right?”

The smile that Clarke gave Lexa was genuine.

The warmth that spread in Lexa’s chest when she saw it was also equally as genuine.

And this time, Lexa was entirely aware of it. But she dismissed it as being caused by her drunken state, so sure that all she felt for Clarke was friendly interest – she just wanted Clarke to be her best friend. Nothing more.

When she walked into the house, she quickly learned something new about Clarke.

In her house, she was almost like a different person. She was livelier, more willing to smile, and Lexa was definitely not against the change – if anything, it made the confusion in her head so much more worse, but in the best of ways.

She was open, she was comfortable with herself; she was in her comfort zone.

“What kind of pizza do you like?”

 “Um,” Lexa began, trying to think of a topping. For some reason, she wasn’t quite thinking straight. “Pepperoni?”

“Pepperoni sounds good,” Clarke agreed. “Olives?”

“Yeah,” Lexa blurted out, though in actuality she didn’t like olives at all. “They’re- they’re fine.”

“Oh, good, my mom hates them, so we never get them on our pizza,” Clarke smiled. “And I love them.”

In that moment, Lexa resolved to just pick the olives out. And hide them, if necessary.

“What do you want to do?”

Clarke shrugged. “I was going to do our project, but I don’t think you can…”

Lexa frowned. “I’m not that drunk.”

“But drunk enough to not do schoolwork,” Clarke said lightly. “A movie?”

“Sure, that sounds good.”

Clarke went her way into the living room, and Lexa was left in the kitchen, wondering why she felt so light-headed.

 “The pizza will be here in like twenty minutes,” Clarke told her when she came back into the kitchen with her phone in her hand.

Lexa nodded, and suddenly, a silence fell between them. She felt it as awkward, and fiddled with the hem of her shirt, not sure of what to do. She wasn’t sure what to talk about, she couldn’t think of anything in the moment; she wasn’t usually the one who came up with the topics of conversation, anyway, not in her friend group.

Clarke, on the other hand, busied herself with gathering two plates, and then getting glasses and searching the freezer for ice – during which she handed packets of frozen peas and a tub of ice cream to Lexa to hold for a while, while Lexa stood there, watching her, unsure of what to do and where to stand.

“Found it,” Clarke finally groaned, getting up off of her knees and bringing the bag of ice to the counter. “What do you want to drink? We have some soda, and lemonade-“

Lexa shrugged. “Lemonade sounds good.”

They took the plates and drinks and all to the living room, and, after some time of feeble attempts at some conversation, the doorbell rang.

“That must be the pizza,” Clarke said. “I’ll-“

“No, let me,” Lexa smiled. “Please, you’re treating me to this, let me buy the pizza.”

“If you insist,” Clarke shrugged, looking at her with a funny look in her eye.

Luckily, Lexa had grabbed the right coat, and had her wallet and phone in the pocket. She even had cash, something she only rarely did.

When she opened the door, however, she found Bellamy – Octavia’s older brother - standing on the front step, holding a pizza.

“One large pepperoni-“ he began, faltering when he recognized Lexa. “Oh, hey, Lexa.”

“Hey, Bell. How much is it?” Lexa asked, huddling in the cold coming from the outside.

“Sixteen,” Bellamy said, looking at her curiously. “Why are you here? Isn’t there a party at your place right now?”

“Here,” Lexa muttered, shoving a twenty in Bellamy’s hand. “I’m just here to see a friend. It’s really cold, I’m going to go-“ She flashed him a quick smile just to get him off of her back, and shut the door, sighing in relief.

Octavia would hear about it, Lexa knew she would. But she decided that was a worry for another day.

“It smells amazing,” she declared as she went into the living room. She found Clarke curled up on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest, flicking through channels to find the right one – her brows were furrowed in concentration, and she only glanced at Lexa briefly before looking back at the TV.

“I can never remember how to use Netflix on this,” she muttered, pressing a few more buttons. “I always use my laptop.”

She did figure it out, and handed Lexa the remote, telling her to pick whatever she wanted to watch.

“I don’t know what to pick,” Lexa frowned, looking at the selection.

“Just whatever you like, I don’t care,” Clarke shrugged. "Show me something I haven't seen, maybe."

“But I-“ Lexa paused. “I kind of like…boring things.”

“Like what?”

“Like documentaries?”

“I like them sometimes too,” Clarke said, reaching for a slice of pizza.

“You sure?”

Clarke nodded, her mouth full of pizza.

Lexa ended up choosing the second season of Planet Earth.

“Oh, I didn’t know this was on here,” Clarke exclaimed quietly, leaning back against the cushions. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

That was the last that either of them would speak for a long time. They sat there, eating pizza and watching the documentary in comfortable silence, in comfortable peace and quiet – there was no need for words, no need to forcibly break the comfort, and it was something that Lexa soon realized she craved.

She didn’t want to go back to the party. She liked her friends but not the fact that their social lives were so focused on night-time clubbing and parties. She didn’t like the fact that most of the times she spent with them she was either drunk or planning to get drunk, she didn’t like the fact that, now that she was out of the situation, she realized she grew tired when she was around them.

That was what Lexa realized then, sitting in Clarke’s lounge, staring at the rug and stirring her lemonade – she wasn’t so sure if she really liked her friends as much as she used to.

She didn’t hate them, that was for sure. And she didn’t want to leave them, either. She liked their Sunday morning brunches and the occasional movie nights, she liked getting coffee with Costia between breaks and hanging out with Octavia at the nearby McDonalds after training, she liked their springtime picnics and summer road trips to drive to music festivals. But she hadn’t realized how rarely she’d said no, even when she’d wanted to, not until that moment – she’d just done things because they were expected of her. She’d run for student body president because her friends had told her she’d be good and because her parents had wanted her to. She loved volunteering, that was for sure, but had trouble saying no to offers there too – sometimes, she wished she could just go home and rest. She’d done field hockey solely because the coach had asked her to – while she liked the sport, she wasn’t always so excited to have training so often, and games and all the other activities involved.

She wasn’t so sure what she wanted, other than that she wanted time for herself.

She needed balance.

She hadn’t realized she even needed it.

* * *

Clarke kept eyeing Lexa throughout the documentary. She couldn’t really focus, though it was relatively interesting; she was more interested in the brunette sitting just a few feet from her, one leg bent under her while the other hung off the couch, kicking every once in a while. She was leaning back against the couch, head relaxed against a cushion, her whole body was incredibly relaxed and Clarke half wished she could be that as well – but she couldn’t, she was tense and curled up, and it was all because of Lexa.

Lexa, who had insisted on walking her home. Lexa, who had stayed for pizza, even though she had friends and a party to get to – Lexa, who, against all odds, had chosen Clarke over all that.

Just for hanging out, though, Clarke was almost sure of it.

Almost.

She was drunk, after all. And probably tired after walking all the way. And maybe she’d just felt bad about basically bailing on Clarke, and wanted to make it up – Lexa seemed like someone who would do that. It was an endearing quality, the amount that Lexa just gave and gave; she was always ready to help, and clearly enjoyed it too, didn’t just do it because she had to but because she _wanted_ to.

_Chivalry isn’t dead_ , that was what Clarke had thought many times during their walk over back to her house. That was what she was, chivalrous – or selfless, one of the two. Or both.

It was a quality that Clarke hadn’t known she found attractive till she saw it in a person. But now she did, she knew, and it only made her craving worse.

She wanted to be close to Lexa. But she was afraid. Lexa was the first friend she’d made at her new school, the first person she’d had a fun conversation with in so long, too long – she didn’t want to risk that, just because she had feelings. Not when she was so sure that Lexa wasn’t as attached to her.

Lexa was everyone’s friend. So of course she was Clarke’s friend too.

It was nothing special.

A phone rang in the background, and Clarke noticed Lexa didn’t even make a move to get up and go check it – something which, once it had become clear that Lexa had noticed it and just chosen not to do anything, Clarke wanted to ask about.

She didn’t have to, because Lexa beat her to it.

“It’s just my friends,” she shrugged. “Probably.”

“Not up to answering them?”

“They’ll want me to go back,” Lexa sighed, resting her head back on the couch. “I don’t want to. I just want to sleep.”

“You don’t have to go,” Clarke said, her voice almost faltering. “I mean…we have a guest bedroom.”

“I didn’t bring anything,” Lexa frowned. “No pj’s-“

“I’ll lend you some of mine.”

* * *

 

It was easier than she thought, having Lexa over for the night. Though Clarke felt jitters and butterflies in her stomach, she ignored them, and Lexa didn’t question how quiet she got once the offer was made.

Clarke figured Lexa just thought she was being shy again. Which, in a sense, she was.

She figured Clarke hadn’t had anyone over for a while, could tell it by the fact that Clarke looked so shocked when she’d said yes – it was as though she hadn’t actually thought a yes was even possible.

It was late when they finally turned the TV off and went upstairs. Clarke walked to her bedroom, and Lexa, not sure if she was welcome to follow, stood in the doorway for a moment – but just a moment, because when Clarke noticed she was hesitating, she let out a laugh.

“You can come in, it’s not like you need permission or anything.”

Her room was…comfortable. That’s what it looked like. Tapestries and fairy lights hung from the ceiling and the walls, and there were led candles here and there, which Clarke lit on her way to her closet. The whole room was bathed in warm light; Lexa thought it seemed like a comfortable nest, away from the world. She didn't know that Clarke usually slept with the led candles on, so she wasn't fully in the dark; she didn't know that she slept curled up under blankets, clutching a pillow, to feel as safe and tucked away as she possibly could. All she saw was comfort.

There was a pile of clothes on the chair by the foot of her bed, and a massive mess of paints and papers and sketchbooks and sketches on her desk. A line hung above it, with paintings hung to dry, paintings of sunsets and birds in the street and other common things portrayed in new, different perspectives, so fascinating Lexa couldn’t help but gravitate towards them.

“You’re my size, I think,” Clarke said as she walked out of the closet, pausing when she noticed Lexa looking at her paintings. "Or close to it, anyway."

“They’re very good,” Lexa said, still in awe, gesturing at the paintings. “You’re talented.”

“You’ve said that.”

The clothes Clarke had picked out for her were simple enough, sweatpants and a t-shirt, and Lexa was very grateful for them. 

“Wouldn’t want to have to sleep in this,” she laughed, gesturing at her top and jeans. “Not exactly comfortable.”

“No, definitely not,” Clarke agreed. “Come, I’ll show you the guest room.”

The guest room was plain, neat, and had a painting of Clarke’s on the wall - a tree, in black and white, simple and yet tastefully beautiful. The sheets were soft, and so inviting that Lexa fell asleep almost instantly – she was tired, exhausted even, and felt so relaxed and calm that sleep was directly within her reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aren't they just absolutely the cutest fuckers on this planet
> 
> no bed sharing yet, i'm afraid.....but the emphasis lies heavily on the yet. it'll happen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update friday is here my cuties!!! this one's a doozy

 

Lexa awoke in the morning in that slow, drawing sort of way, where she spent a good half an hour dozing in and out of consciousness, feeling no rush to get up and out of bed. She was comfortable, she was just warm enough and yet not too much, and the shirt she was wearing was just about the softest thing she’d ever worn.

She didn’t know it, but she’d slept with a slight smile on her lips.

She also didn’t know that Clarke had seen it, when she’d come in to turn off the lamp on the table that she’d forgotten about.

She laid around in bed, comfortable to just lounge, to think about nothing and just be…but she didn’t get to enjoy it for too long.

A tentative knock on her door roused her from her daze, and next she heard a voice.

“Lexa? You awake?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

Lexa sat up with a yawn and nodded at the empty room. “Yeah, sure.”

Clarke’s hair was in a messy bun, her face looked fresh and soft – Lexa, though she wasn’t entirely aware, found herself unable to tear her eyes away from her.

“Morning,” she said on entering the room, smiling at Lexa shyly. “Did you sleep well?”

“So well,” Lexa smiled back. “Thanks for letting me stay over.”

“Any time.”

“And thanks for the pjs.”

“Well, I couldn’t just have you sleeping naked, could I?”

Lexa laughed.

Clarke prayed her face wouldn’t go red.

She may have secretly not minded the idea of Lexa sleeping naked.

“Do you want breakfast?”

 

* * *

 

Lexa left by eight, after a quick breakfast with a side of chatting. Having checked her phone, she was certain Octavia didn’t yet know she hadn’t come back to the party. There were no texts, no missed calls - Lexa was almost a little hopeful that her being gone hadn't been noticed.

She came to her apartment to find it in surprisingly good condition. There were bags of trash by the front door, but clearly, they’d made an effort to not trash the place.

Costia was curled up on the couch, fast asleep, clutching a pillow.

Raven was in the bathroom, equally as asleep, having padded the bathtub with pillows into a comfortable nest. There was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the floor by the tub.

And Octavia? She was in Lexa’s bed, laying on top of Lincoln. And quietly snoring.

Lexa was thankful to find that they were both clothed. Seemed that Octavia had stuck to the one rule Lexa had insisted on when it came to parties at her house.

_No sex in my bed._

But cuddling wasn’t off limits. And Lexa was a little happy to see Octavia had finally gotten her boy. It was appropriate, considering it was her birthday, and she had been crushing on him for the better part of a year.

When Lexa came back to the living room, she noticed the bucket of cleaning supplies on the floor by Costia. Evidently, Costia had taken it upon herself to clean the apartment – it was, in essence, spotless. Or as spotless as one could expect a place to be after the party that had taken place.

It was early, and Lexa was more or less certain that nobody would wake for a few more hours, and so she sat down in an arm chair and grabbed a book.

Raven was the first to wake up. All Lexa heard was a quiet groan from the bathroom, and then, padding footsteps slowly approaching.

“Coffee?”

Lexa pointed towards the kitchen, not raising her eyes from her book. “There’s a ready pot in the kitchen. Make sure you leave some for the rest.”

She heard some clattering from the kitchen, and a moment later, Raven emerged, cradling a mug in her hand. She slumped down into the bean bag chair next to Lexa, and, after a few moments, Lexa raised her eyes to meet her curious stare.

“What?”

“Where did you disappear to?”

Lexa didn’t know Raven too well. She was a friend, maybe, but not a close one – she may have been put off by how she seemed to see right through her.

Especially now.

“I just went out to get some air.”

“Huh,” Raven said, her voice hushed so as to not wake Costia. “I could’ve sworn I saw you leave with Clarke Griffin.”

Lexa frowned.

How could she know?

And how did she know Clarke’s name?

“So I’m right,” Raven nodded, looking a little pleased with herself. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your little secret, if you want.”

“Thank you, I’d- yeah.”

Lexa went to let out a sigh of relief, but Raven wasn’t done.

“I should warn you, though. Octavia knows you ditched her party.”

“What- how?” Lexa stammered, her voice rising for a brief moment. “You-“

“No, she didn’t see you, and I didn’t tell her. It was her brother, Bellamy? He came over. Mentioned you weren’t here, just in passing, I'm sure he meant no harm by it. Octavia was fuming for a solid ten minutes before Lincoln managed to distract her.”

Lexa let out a quiet groan. “How likely do you think it is that she’ll have forgotten about it?”

Raven shook her head. “Sorry. She was fuming.”

Lexa sighed and leaned back. “I guess I’ll just have to face up to it.”

“But why did you leave?”

Lexa shrugged, trying to think up a reason – but, thankfully, she didn’t have to, because Costia woke up. Raven moved away, and Costia, after some stretching and whining, noticed Lexa.

“You.”

She didn’t seem too angry. Maybe mildly pissed off.

“You just left? Where did you even go?” Costia asked, moving over to sit where Raven had sat just a moment ago.

“Nowhere, Cos, I swear.”

“You went somewhere.”

“It’s…it doesn’t matter.”

“Did you get laid?”

There was a slight moment of hesitation before Lexa decided to lie.

“Maybe.”

“Who?”

“Nobody.”

“Please tell me you know her name?”

“Alex? I don’t know.”

“That sounds a lot like yours.”

“Yeah, I might have made it up. I don’t know. She lives nearby.”

“How close?”

Lexa shrugged. “Some blocks…maybe? It was dark, Cos. And you made me have too many shots.”

“I didn’t make you. I was just holding them and you took them from me.”

“Because you were too drunk,” Lexa muttered.

“That’s sweet, but I got too drunk anyway. I mean,” Costia sighed, gesturing around the apartment. “I _cleaned_.”

“I appreciate it.”

Costia gave Lexa a little smile before walking off in search of coffee. Had Lexa not been paying such close attention, she may have missed the tension in Costia’s shoulders and the slight forced nature of the smile – though she was acting like she didn’t, Lexa knew Costia was aware she’d lied. At least she knew she’d lied a little bit.

* * *

Eventually, Octavia woke up. She said exactly one thing to Lexa before storming out.

“Thanks for the awesome party. Too bad you missed it.”

She left, Lincoln in tow, and Lexa was left by the front door with a twisting feeling in her gut.

She didn’t feel like she’d done anything too wrong, really.

Yes, maybe she shouldn’t have stayed the night at Clarke's. Maybe she shouldn’t have walked her home in the first place.

But did she regret it?

No, absolutely not.

And so she sighed, and decided to let the matter be for now.

She waved Costia goodbye a little later.

She had settled on giving Octavia some space for a few days before trying to talk it out. She knew she’d be fine, that she’d just have to lie and say she’d had sex with someone and had left because her bedroom was occupied - it would be fine. A little lie, nothing more.

By the time Octavia was ready to talk, Lexa had her lie fully prepared.

It felt like she was giving a presentation. Octavia sat across from her at a picnic table in the courtyard, Costia sitting next to her, neither of them really giving Lexa any hints of what they thought.

Costia had avoided her, too, for the better part of the two days it had taken for Octavia to cool down. Lexa wasn’t too sure why, but she figured it had something to do with the slight flinch she saw when she repeated her story.

“I was supposed to have a date,” she began, glancing from Octavia to Costia. “And you guys just barged in, and- I forgot to text her to not come. So she did, and I felt really bad, so I walked her home, and then we…you know.”

"Had sex?" Costia asked.

Lexa nodded.

“And then you slept till morning and snuck back hoping we wouldn’t have noticed?” Octavia asked, her glare slightly softened.

“I just- okay, you _did_ barge in without warning.”

There was a slightly annoyed tone in Lexa's voice. 

Octavia nodded. “But it was my birthday. I think that gives me some leeway-”

“I would have liked warning-“

“Can we not fight again, please,” Costia interrupted. “Okay, so, we should have warned you. Asked you. And you should’ve maybe told us where you were going. It’s not like we would’ve said no, you know- you do you. Or do others. Girls.”

She flinched again, but Lexa didn’t notice.

“You didn’t tell us. Was it supposed to be a secret?”

_Yes._ “No. It’s just…she’s not important. I’m not going to date her, so…”

“At least give us a name.”

Lexa sighed. It was a good thing she’d come prepared.

“Naya.”

"No secrets?"

Lexa looked at her friends, smiled a little, and lied again.

"No secrets."

She didn't feel like they'd be fair if she told them about Clarke.

And she felt like she was entitled to one secret.

It wasn't like they  _had_ to know about Clarke. 

* * *

Though from then on they were on speaking terms, Lexa knew that all was not well in her group of friends. There was tension, and sideways glances – sometimes she’d walk in to find Costia and Octavia talking quietly, just the two of them.

She had an inkling as to what they were talking about in such a secretive manner. She knew that they hadn’t bought her lie completely, but had been too tired to fully explain; it wasn’t like they had to know _every_ aspect of her life.

Costia seemed to have gotten into a mood that Lexa could not decipher. She went from happily friendly to suddenly sulky, within just a span of hours, and it confused Lexa to no end. It was as if Costia couldn’t decide how to act with her, but why, Lexa couldn’t figure that out.

She wasn’t always as observant as she liked to think herself.

But though she may not have noticed many things that week, she did not miss one realization.

It had hit her unexpectedly, in the middle of a lecture. Art history, Friday morning, everyone in the hall was sleepy and anxious to just get out. Lexa heard a pencil clatter down the steps, and turned around, just to look – but caught sight of Clarke instead.

And Clarke was looking at her.

A little smile, blue eyes meeting green, and all of a sudden Lexa felt something.

Not just something.

A lot of something.

She turned her face back up front as quickly as she could, feeling her cheeks get red as a swelling warm sensation grew within her chest – her mouth was slightly ajar as she just tried to remember how to breathe.

_Oh fuck._

“You okay, Lex?”

Lexa glanced at Costia and nodded. “Almost choked on some spit,” she whispered back, turning her eyes back up at the board and clearing her throat.

_Just breathe._

Her heart was pounding, her hands felt clammy, she was certain she would have swooned had she been standing up – it was ridiculous.

_I like her._

Lexa had to stifle a groan by biting into her pen. She felt stupid, ridiculous even; what had been just a simple smile and barely a second of eye contact had set off a whole chain reaction of realizations.

The calmness Clarke made her feel. The way her smile made Lexa’s day feel brighter.

The way she just couldn’t quit her. The way she kept being drawn to her like an oblivious moth to a blazing flame.

_I fucking like her._

Everything felt tense. Electric. The room felt small and big at the same time, and Lexa was overwhelmingly thankful that Clarke was as far as she was; had she been within her field of vision, Lexa knew she would have been having more trouble breathing than what she already was.

_Do I tell her?_

_No, I can’t._

_God, I’m an idiot._

When she left class, she rushed straight for the bathroom. She couldn’t manage trying to hold a conversation, not when she was just overwhelmed and had a repeating mantra of ‘ _I’m an idiot’_ going on in her mind.

It took her twenty minutes to calm down.

But when she walked out of the bathroom, it was as if all that work in calming down was for noting, because right at the door was Clarke.

Lexa mumbled a hey and rushed off before Clarke had time to see her face turn the color of a tomato.

And Clarke was left to stand in the hallway, very confused, unsure as to why Lexa hadn’t even dared to meet her eyes.

 

* * *

 

It hadn’t been a good day for Clarke.

It hadn’t been a good week.

She was tired, exhausted beyond belief, and felt more alone than ever. She hadn’t talked to anyone in what felt like ages, though in actuality it was five days – but even that was too much.

Far too much.

It wasn’t the first time she poured herself a drink to cope.

It was very rare that she did, though.

She made sure to not do it often. She didn’t want it becoming a habit.

The last time she had done it had been a year ago. But today…it was all just too much. She needed a break. She didn’t want to cry anymore, didn’t want to feel like shit, wanted the heavy weight in her chest to go away, even if it was just for a few hours – she wanted a break.

And so she poured half vodka and half of whatever juice she could find in an empty cup and downed it in one go.

It burned, but then the burn became warmth, and she was…okay. Not happy, but okay.

She hadn’t talked to Lexa since Tuesday when they’d handed in their project. They’d finished it up hurriedly in the library the day before.

They hadn’t talked much about the weekend. About the night of the party.

She’d wanted to, but Lexa had been busy.

They’d said hi here and there, whenever they’d run into one another, but it wasn’t really talking.

She’d wanted to text her, but she hadn’t found anything sensible to write. She’d tried many times, her thumb hovering over the send button, but erased them each time. She’d dismissed them as stupid, as ridiculous.

She didn’t want to seem desperate though she knew that, in a way, she was exactly that. Desperate, needy, and trying oh-so hard not to be – she really didn’t want to be leaning so hard on one person, especially not one who she was growing to like so much. She didn’t want to scare her away.

She did want to talk to her, though.

But she hadn’t wanted to bother Lexa, and so, she hadn’t contacted her in any way.

Far too much vodka and not nearly enough juice later, Clarke found herself curled up on the couch, staring at the spot where Lexa had sat. She could almost imagine her there, sitting, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers, looking so unreal and so beautiful…

But she wasn’t there.

Her phone buzzed, somewhere on her body, and Clarke jumped, nearly dropping her glass to the floor.

She thought it was her mother, telling her she was coming home early, and panicked as she searched for her phone.

She _really_ didn’t want her mom to see her like this.

But no.

It was Lexa.

_(Lexa, 07:11 p.m.)_

**How are you?**

Clarke stared at the text for longer than she should have, long enough for her phone to go to sleep. When it did, she realized she had to answer – she couldn’t just leave Lexa on read.

_(Clarke, 07:16 p.m.)_

**Bored. You?**

She didn’t expect a reply so fast.

Little did she know that on the other end, Lexa had been staring at her phone intently, praying she’d answer.

_(Lexa, 07:15 p.m.)_

**I’m bored too.**

**Wanna hang out?**

Panic hit Clarke when she saw the second text. She stared at the screen, not sure what to say or do, for so long that a third text popped up.

**We don’t have to go out. I can come over, if you want.**

And then, a fourth.

**I just miss you. Idk.**

Clarke couldn’t, by any means, say no to that. She couldn’t. Even though she knew she shouldn’t have, given she was drunk, she texted Lexa back.

_(Clarke, 07:21 p.m.)_

**Yeah, sure. You can come over.**

_(Lexa, 07:22 p.m.)_

**Great. I’ll be there in 25.**

That was when Clarke really started to panic. Lexa was coming over, so soon, she was drunk and looked messy and awful and she hadn’t thought this through – but, at the same time, she was glad.

Worried that Lexa would turn on her heel when she saw her, but glad at the same time.

She did touch her makeup up a little, just wiped away the mascara smears, and changed from sweatpants into jeans – she didn’t want to look like a total bum.

Not in front of Lexa.

* * *

Lexa didn’t know exactly what to expect when she rang Clarke’s doorbell.

But she definitely didn’t expect to find a smiling and shy Clarke, stumbling a little as she opened the door, too obviously drunk.

“Are you okay?” were the first words that Lexa managed to get out.

“I’m fine,” Clarke said, but she didn’t sound fine – she sounded drunk, and Lexa was worried.

Getting drunk alone was a major concern.

“Let’s…let’s go to the living room,” Lexa decided, taking Clarke by the arm and leading her to the couch. “You alright?”

“I’m sorry I’m drunk,” Clarke muttered, looking down as if ashamed. “I know you can tell.”

“I- yeah, I can.”

“I should’ve maybe warned you.”

“This isn’t something you do often, is it?”

“God no,” Clarke said quickly, looking up at Lexa with her eyes wide. “No, I- this is the first drink I’ve had in a year. I swear.”

Lexa had no reason to doubt Clarke’s words, and so sat down beside her, looking at her carefully. “Are you okay?”

She seemed like she genuinely cared. She did, she really did, but Clarke hadn’t entirely considered that she could – and so, seeing her looking at her like that, asking that so gently, acting so kind and careful…it made her feel some type of way.

And it wasn’t good. It was an aching twist in her chest, a weight that made her feel like she was choking, it felt like her eyes would burn if she didn’t let tears fall – and so, instead, she got up.

“I don’t feel too good,” she mumbled, and hurried off to the bathroom.

She didn’t look back.

Had she done so, she would’ve seen Lexa looking confused and slightly hurt, as though Clarke’s disappearance was a direct reflection on her – which Lexa knew it wasn’t, but still, it felt bad, seeing her rush off like that. It felt confusing too, confusing and bad, as though it were Lexa’s responsibility to make Clarke feel better.

But Clarke wasn’t letting her.

All in all, it was not a feeling Lexa was used to. She wasn’t used to being so hurt over seeing someone in pain, which Clarke so obviously was. Though she may have tried to hide it, Lexa had noticed her red eyes and nose the instant she’d come in, she’d noticed the somber look in her blue eyes and the hunched shoulders – she'd known something was wrong long before Clarke said anything.

She didn’t know Clarke was in the bathroom crying, but after twenty minutes had passed with no sign of her, she got up to go check on her.

She heard the sniffles before she knocked on the door. For the briefest of moments, she hesitated – but then, swallowing her fear, she knocked, lightly, and waited for any sort of response.

“Clarke? You okay?”

She heard Clarke rush towards something, most likely a box of tissues, and heard her blowing her nose.

“Yeah, I’m-“ Clarke’s voice broke with a sob.

She didn’t say anything for a long while. Lexa stood there, unsure of whether she should go or stay, her hand resting against the door – she could feel the door vibrating, just a little, whenever she heard a stifled sob.

Clarke was leaning on it on the other side. Curled up, hugging her knees to her chest, head buried in her hands, fingers curled tight around her hair in a painful attempt to steady herself – but nothing worked, she couldn’t hold back for the life of her, and, secretly, a part of her didn’t want to.

It hurt more not to cry than it did to let it out.

She didn’t realize Lexa was still there till there was another knock on the door.

“Do you want to maybe come out?”

Clarke shook her head, then realized Lexa couldn’t see. “No, I…no.”

“You think you look gross, don’t you?”

That drew a light laugh out of her, just a slight one.

Clarke didn’t see, but a warm smile spread onto Lexa’s lips when she heard it.

“You want to talk about it?”

Clarke didn’t. There wasn’t much to talk about.

“No, it’s just…hard. Sometimes,” she said, her voice quiet, hoarse, just barely above a whisper.

She heard some shuffling, and then, felt the door press just slightly against her back. Lexa had to be sitting on the floor now too, leaning against the door – though it was only a two-inch door, it was as though it were a wall a foot thick.

It felt safe. Closed off, hidden away, but not alone – Clarke felt safe, despite the hurt in her heart and the tears burning at her eyes, demanding to be wept. For a brief moment, she wanted to be held; but she made no move towards getting out of the room, she didn’t even dare to consider Lexa may have actually wanted to comfort her – she just buried her head in her hands and let tears fall.

She wasn’t even crying for any particular reason. It just felt bad, and she needed to let it out.

She partly wanted to tell Lexa to leave. She felt like Lexa had come there expecting anything but this, that she didn’t deserve being stuck here comforting her as she cried – but she couldn’t speak, and so said nothing.

Lexa, on the other hand, entertained no thoughts of that sort. She was just sitting on the other side of the door, trying to figure out how to get Clarke to feel a little better.

When, after a while, she determined that Clarke had gotten the most of her crying out, she dared to speak.

“Do you like hot chocolate?”

Clarke frowned at the question. “Why?”

“Do you?”

“I love it,” Clarke confessed. “But why?”

Her voice was small and weak, and she wiped a few more tears away before she heard Lexa’s answer.

“I’ll make you some. I have a secret recipe.”

Clarke heard shuffling outside the door, and then, a few moments later, some clanging and clattering in the kitchen. This gave her a safe way to sneak out of the bathroom upstairs to her room, where she quickly touched her face up with makeup – though her hand shook, she managed to cover up most of the blotchy redness. She was still sure she looked like she’d cried, but at least she didn’t look like a snotty mess.

Her head felt like she was swimming when she slowly made her way down the stairs. Though her mind was way clearer now, she was still feeling light and airy, and definitely not sober. But Lexa, standing by the stove and stirring the hot chocolate, didn’t say a word, only gave her a careful smile and touched her forearm reassuringly.

“You alright?”

_Not_ _entirely_ , Clarke thought, but she nodded and wiped her nose. “You don’t have to stay-“

“I’m not hearing this,” Lexa interrupted, still gentle in tone. “I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

Though Clarke felt a little bad for Lexa feeling like she had to stay, she couldn’t deny that she was very happy that she was, in fact, staying. And she couldn’t hide the little smile that crept up to her lips, no matter how much she tried.

And Lexa noticed.

They were sat on the couch a little later, sipping on their hot chocolate, when Clarke spoke again.

“What’s in this?”

It was delicious, definitely the best she’d ever had – but she wasn’t so sure if the merit was to be given to the recipe or to the girl who had made it specially for her.

“It’s a secret,” Lexa smirked, taking another sip. “Can’t tell.”

Clarke nodded, eyes fixed now on the carpet. She looked thoroughly exhausted, almost as if she were on the verge of falling asleep; her blue eyes were dark from the crying and from drowsiness, and the way her face was angled cast shadows that only accentuated the dark circles under her eyes.

“When was the last time you slept?”

Lexa received only a shrug for an answer.

She didn’t pry any further.

“Do you want to watch something?”

It was a good excuse to have the room dark and for them to not have to talk. Lexa would have liked to talk, but Clarke didn’t seem up to it, and so instead they set up some random comedy movie and turned the lights off. Outside, the Christmas lights of the neighbouring house swung in the gentle wind, casting their gentle twinkling light into the dark living room.

They’d started off sitting side by side. But as the movie went on, Clarke started nodding off, and eventually, she slid a little way to her left, and her head came to rest on Lexa’s shoulder.

The first touch of Clarke’s arm had tensed Lexa right up, and for the brief moment she’d thought Clarke would withdraw, the air had felt electric. But then Clarke’s head had drooped once, then twice, and then it fell to Lexa’s shoulder, and Clarke, already asleep, settled against her, sighing a little in her sleep.

The feeling of Clarke’s weight resting against her arm and shoulder did the exact opposite of what Lexa had thought, and relaxed her. She laid back, gently helped Clarke’s head into a better position, and started staring at the screen without actually paying a single drop of attention to what was going on in the movie. She was more engrossed in the feel of Clarke’s breaths against her shoulder, the tickling sense of Clarke’s hair against her neck, the slight curling of Clarke’s hand around her arm; it felt good, way too good, and it only made Lexa want for more.

After some time, it became very clear that Clarke was very fast asleep. Lexa had reached for a blanket and successfully draped it over Clarke without rousing her, and the movie was almost finished. It was calm in the living room. She’d turned the sound down to near nothing. She hadn’t even really watched the movie. She’d dozed off, relaxing, enjoying her situation, eyes fixed on the TV but not following anything at all – everything about the movie, even the title, was a blur to her.

On a whim, she turned her head, and gently, ever so gently, pressed her lips to Clarke’s forehead. She couldn’t really stop herself, she just felt an overwhelming urge to take care of Clarke, and having her there, asleep and basically in her care, she just…was overcome with a desire to kiss her.

She would’ve never kissed her on the lips without Clarke being awake and consenting, but a forehead kiss she deemed innocent enough. And the fact that Clarke was out for the count also helped – Lexa felt it would have raised too many questions had she done it with her awake.

And Clarke wasn’t awake, but she did seem to shift a little. Lexa could’ve sworn she’d seen the hint of a smile on her lips – but it was dark, and it was hard to tell from where she was looking from. She didn’t know that in her dream, Clarke had felt a warmth come over her, a comforting sense of security; she didn’t know that her being there was helping Clarke have the first good sleep she had had in days. She didn’t know that Clarke had felt a slight rush of calm the second she’d stepped into the house – no, even before that, it had been just the first message she’d sent her, now hours before, that had changed Clarke’s mood.

She wasn’t alone, and in that moment, fast asleep, she felt as far from lonely as she could’ve possibly felt.

* * *

When Clarke awoke an hour or so later, Lexa was asleep. Head resting atop Clarke’s, the movie’s end screen was frozen on the TV, and it seemed to be even darker now than before. Clarke didn’t move or even think about getting up. Lexa was breathing steady, her chest rising slowly with each breath, and she was completely relaxed and limp against Clarke; she was warm, comfortable to lay against, and smelled amazing.

Citrusy and yet somehow…soft. And warm.

Cozy. Homely.

Comforting, with a hint of mint.

She smiled to herself, shifted a little, and closed her eyes, though she did not fall asleep – no, she was far too aware of the intimacy of the moment to fall asleep again. It was not too intimate, nor was it in any way particularly romantic; but it was a step away from simple friendship, Clarke could allow herself to acknowledge that much.

For her, just sitting there, face resting against Lexa’s shoulder – it was more than enough.

An immeasurable amount of time later, Clarke’s phone buzzed on the table, rousing her from the slight daze she’d slipped into. With a groan and a frown, she slipped out of Lexa’s grasp, and carefully tiptoed into the study to answer the call so as to not wake Lexa.

But Lexa woke the moment Clarke’s arm slipped from around her own. She watched as Clarke rushed off to the study, sighing a little when the door closed – it felt empty, sitting there alone, and the moment and comfort that they’d created between themselves had slipped away. Lexa knew it couldn’t be recreated any more, not that night.

Her side felt a little cold, missing the heat of Clarke's body against it.

“It was my mom,” Clarke sighed when she walked back into the living room, turning on a light as she came in. “Sorry for waking you up.”

Lexa yawned and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I sleep light anyway.”

A short while later, Lexa left to go home and sleep. It was late, Clarke assured she was fine, and, after some convincing, Lexa agreed to go.

“Text me, though,” she told Clarke at the door. “For anything. Or call.”

Clarke smiled and promised she would.

When she went to bed, she fell asleep almost immediately, feeling better than she could’ve ever thought she could just hours earlier.

* * *

 

Leaving Clarke’s house, Lexa felt good. Her slight stress about her friends still being a little snippy with her had just washed away – all that was on her mind was the pretty blonde whose house she had just left.

When Lexa got to her bed, she didn’t sleep. She laid on top of the covers and stared at the ceiling, unable to get Clarke out of her head. She was afraid, for some unknown reason – she just didn’t…know. She didn’t know if Clarke was attracted to her, she didn’t know if Clarke was even ready for any dating at all; she didn’t even know if Clarke liked girls. She had at one time thought she was good at telling these things, but Clarke just messed with her head – she didn’t want her hopes to get mixed up with reality. She didn’t want to push ideas onto Clarke that weren’t comfortable to her.

And she really, _really_ , didn’t want to make Clarke uncomfortable. In any possible way.

She told herself she could wait. That there’d be a better time and a better day to figure these feelings out. That for now, Clarke was more in need of a friend – to jeopardize that and possibly risk Clarke being left alone, well…Lexa couldn’t do that.

Never.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they Touched  
> and Lexa kissed Clarke's forehead  
> aren't they cute??? and less in denial now than they were??? it's great


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's saturday, i was busy as fck yesterday but here's a longer-ish chapter for you! so enjoy!!

Two days before classes ended for the holidays, Clarke had an extremely eventful day. And unexpectedly so – when she woke up that morning, she really didn’t expect for so many things to happen. Quite frankly, she didn’t expect anything to happen. She didn’t have any lectures with Lexa, she only had one on early medieval church art and another on the architectural styles and their development in southern Europe; relatively interesting but not the most titillating lectures to be sitting at.

Or so she thought.

She’d been sitting in her seat for a few minutes, having arrived early, when she heard someone approaching.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Clarke looked up, frowning a little, and shrugged. “No, go ahead.”

The girl who sat next to her looked familiar.

“Clarke, right?”

This time, Clarke frowned a lot more. “Um…yeah?”

“Raven,” the girl smiled. “I’m so sorry to barge in on your space like this, but, well…you looked like you could use some company.”

For some reason, Clarke didn’t feel annoyed.

If anything, she felt…touched?

No, heard. She felt noticed, and it felt good.

Raven looked friendly and fun, and in no way felt like she was pushing into Clarke’s space. She may have been a little confused as to why she’d decided to sit next to her, given the classroom was empty – she really didn’t _have_ to sit right by Clarke. But she’d chosen to.

“I’ve been sitting next to Murphy for weeks now and I’m tired of his whining,” Raven sighed, plopping a heavy textbook onto the desk in front of her. “All because he’s in my course he thinks he’s got to sit next to me…annoying, right?”

Clarke had no idea who Murphy was. Quite frankly, she was only half listening to Raven – she was more interested in the title of her textbook.

_Human Remains 101 – a comprehensive guide to their decomposition, analysis, and identification_

“I’m an archaeology student,” Raven informed her, having noticed her look. “Should explain the dead people book.”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” Clarke said.

“I’m not a serial killer, I promise.”

“That’s exactly what a serial killer would say,” Clarke replied, half as an afterthought. But Raven laughed, and that felt good too – it felt easy.

“Listen,” Raven said then, leaning in a little. “I may have had an ulterior motive in coming to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

“We’ve met before.”

Clarke just raised an eyebrow.

“Support group?”

And then Clarke knew why Raven looked familiar.

“Oh.”

“I’m not going to bring it up if it’s uncomfortable or anything, but-“ Raven paused. “I do want to ask you something.”

Clarke wasn’t uncomfortable. At least not yet. “Go on?”

“Do you want to give it a second try?”

She’d tried it over a year ago now, this grief support group her mom had heard of, meant for young adults. She’d gone maybe three times, and it had been okay – but she’d been sick for a week, missed two sessions, and then just given up. It hadn’t been terrible, though. She just…she hadn’t been ready. Back then, she hadn’t even been in therapy for so long. She’d barely said a word during the group meetings, simply because she hadn’t been able to gather her thoughts into a cohesive sentence.

“I’m only asking because, well…I think you might like it. It helped me, and, well, you seemed cool…” Raven was already backtracking, taking Clarke’s consideration in silence as a sign of an impending ‘no thanks’. “I’m not pressuring you or anything, I just wanted you to consider it.”

Clarke had known this girl for less than 5 minutes, and yet, for some reason, she trusted her.

“I…I’ve been considering it.”

She had felt better after the last session she’d been to. But then she hadn’t gone back, and it had gotten to a point where going to the group would have felt like an impossible feat. But now, with someone else to go with? It suddenly didn’t feel like such an obstacle.

“It’s on every Thursday, like before.”

“Today’s Thursday.”

“I don’t mean you have to come today,” Raven smiled, relaxing a little as she began to realize Clarke wasn’t offended or out of her comfort zone because of her question. “Just when you feel up to it. Unless you want to? Today, I mean.”

Clarke wasn’t doing anything that afternoon. She rarely was busy, anyway.

Rarely was more than never, though.

That was thanks to Lexa.

And so it was that Clarke found herself agreeing to it. Taking down Raven’s phone number, giving Raven hers, agreeing on meeting at the bus stop after her second lecture – the meeting was at five, so they could easily go down by bus and be there with more than enough time to spare.

The lecture was less boring with Raven next to her. Her commentary would have made a lecture on stone types and their geological sources interesting.

One time, Clarke had to fake a cough when she almost let out a laugh after a dirtier joke that Raven made about corbelled arches.

She was funny. And quirky.

Interesting.

When she left the lecture to walk to her other one, she felt happier. She was in a great mood, excited for the evening, in a strange way – she knew the group wouldn’t exactly be the most fun of times, but she was just excited to have plans. Easy-going plans at that. No pressure, none whatsoever.

She didn’t even know her already great mood could be elevated. But then Lexa ran up to her, grabbing her arm to stop her, seemingly out of breath as she smiled and greeted her.

And it was as if the whole world had tilted a little and turned just a bit greater.

“Hey,” she panted, leaning over a little. “God, it’s not easy running in snow.”

“You should be careful,” Clarke smiled. “You could’ve slipped.”

“Please. I’m agile as anything.”

“Like a deer?”

“What?”

“I’m thinking of Bambi.”

Lexa rolled her eyes and let out a laugh. Her cheeks were red and her nose was too, and her lips looked dry and a little chapped – still, Clarke judged them to be overwhelmingly kissable.

She had to shake those thoughts out of her head. Or try at the very least.

“I just wanted to give you this,” Lexa said, handing Clarke a bag. “Just something small. Merry Christmas.”

It was a Target bag, but inside of it was a neatly packaged…something. With a bow and everything, a Christmas-y print on the paper with reindeer on a red background.

In an instant, Clarke felt bad. Happy, too, and touched, but mostly bad. She hadn't bought Lexa a present. She hadn't even thought that she should.

“I- this is amazing, thank you,” she stammered. “I just…I didn’t get you anything.”

“It’s alright, you can buy me coffee some time and that’ll make up for it,” Lexa joked. “I just saw it and thought you’d like it. No big deal.”

But it was a big deal, for both Clarke and for Lexa.

For Lexa, because she was nervous Clarke wouldn’t like it, and she so hoped she would.

And for Clarke, because it was a Christmas present from the girl she was liking hopelessly, more and more by the minute.

“I gotta run,” Lexa said then. “Class. And you probably have one too.”

“Right.”

“Well, have a happy Christmas.”

“You too, a merry Christmas,” Clarke smiled. “Oh, and a happy New Year?”

“If we don’t see before then, yeah,” Lexa smiled back. “See you, Clarke.”

The way she said her name left Clarke standing in the snow, unable to really think for a few moments.

_Clarke._

It sounded so soft and gentle, rolling off her tongue.

She wanted to hear more of it.

So much more.

 

* * *

 

When Clarke came home that evening, she had a weary smile on her face, such that immediately heightened her mother’s mood when she saw it.

“Long day?”

Clarke nodded. “Yeah.”

“Anything exciting?”

A shrug. “I went to that group again.”

The mixture of relief and pride that washed over Abby’s eyes made Clarke feel happy. She was glad to see her mother worrying less.

“Was it fun?”

Another shrug. “As fun as it can be, I guess.”

“Didn’t it usually end by six?”

Clarke glanced at the clock. It was past eight. “Yeah, I stayed for tea and games after.”

And then, she suddenly found herself enveloped in a warm hug.

“I’m proud of you.”

Clarke just hugged her mother back and sighed. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Sorry,” Abby smiled, stroking Clarke’s cheek as she withdrew, “It’s in my job description.”

It had been a great day. A lot had happened, so much that Clarke fell asleep almost the instant she laid down in bed.

Raven had clear potential to be her friend. She was snarky and fun, loud enough that she covered up Clarke’s quieter moments – and, through some strange intuition, she knew how to tiptoe around Clarke’s space. She pushed it, but never too far; she was considerate, and that’s what Clarke liked most of all.

She was considerate, but not pitying. And she understood, too.

She’d lost her mother three years back. But unlike Clarke, she had no family left.

She jokingly called herself an orphan, or so she’d said. And then she’d admitted she used humor to cope.

She made it easy for Clarke to partake in group discussions. She hadn’t said much during the meeting itself, she’d just sat there holding her cup of water and listened; but that had been enough. And no one had pressured her to say anything. But after, when they’d been playing board games - Monopoly in teams of two – she’d talked. And it hadn’t even been that hard.

It had been an amazing day.

And what made it better was Lexa’s gift.

She’d left it on her desk for now.

It may have even been the last thing she saw before she fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Clarke appeared at Lexa’s door some time in the afternoon. She’d spent all day looking for a present for her, having known she couldn’t just ‘leave it’ as Lexa had insisted; she wanted to get her a Christmas present, and that was precisely why she was knocking at Lexa’s door, hoping she was home.

The door was opened by a woman with messy hair, wearing sleep shorts and a crop top, and who had a confused look on her face.

“Oh, Lexa’s blonde friend,” she said after a brief moment, smiling a little. “Clarke, is it?”

_Lexa’s blonde friend?_

Clarke may have been a little perplexed that this woman, who she judged to be some years her senior, knew her name.

“Yeah, um- is Lexa home?”

“No, she’s out with friends. Did you have something important to tell her?”

Clarke glanced down at the bag in her hand. “Just a Christmas present.”

There may have been a twinge of disappointment in her voice.

“I can give it to her, if you want,” the woman offered. “If you trust it with me.”

Clarke shrugged. She really only had one guess as to who this could be – Anya, Lexa’s sister, who she’d mentioned in passing more than a few times. “As long as she gets it, I’m happy.”

She handed Anya the bag. “Oh, and tell her Merry Christmas from me.”

“Will do.”

* * *

Anya stared at the bag in her hand for the briefest of moments after closing the door. She didn’t look inside, that would have been snooping, but she did look at the bag in her hand, and deduced something which Lexa was yet to realize.

_She’s got a crush._

There was a hand-painted card that Anya could see peeking out, she had seen the disappointment in her eyes when Lexa hadn’t been there – and, well…she just had a gut feeling.

And when Lexa came home, Anya knew almost immediately that she had a crush as well.

“Your blonde friend came over earlier, she left a present for you.”

“Where?”

“It’s in your room-“

And then Lexa was off.

The excitement in her eyes made Anya laugh. She knew her sister could be an idiot at times, and she thought it was cute.

At that moment, Lexa did feel like an idiot. She had missed Clarke coming over. Even though they hadn’t agreed on meeting and she’d been busy, she still felt a little bad. Had she known Clarke was coming, she wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

The present sat on her bed waiting for her when she walked into her room. She couldn’t help but smile upon seeing it; though in no way had she meant to pressure Clarke into getting her a present, she couldn’t deny that it did feel good.

It wouldn’t even matter what the present was. The sentiment was more than enough to make Lexa’s Christmas spirit soar.

She went over to their Christmas tree, set Clarke’s present under it, and sent Clarke a picture of it.

**Lexa (9.17 p.m.) (1 attachment)**

_I put your present under our tree! Thank you so much btw_

_I hope you didn’t feel like you had to get it since I got you something._

Clarke’s reply made Lexa smile even wider.

**Clarke (9.21 p.m.)**

_I really wanted to get you something._

_Merry Christmas, by the way. Sorry I missed you when I came over._

**Lexa (9.21 p.m.)**

_No, I’m sorry – I was out all day._

_I missed you, though._

_You would’ve liked this gingerbread cookie popup shop we found._

Little did she know that on the other end, Clarke had just groaned into her pillow.

_She missed me?_

The thought made her feel a multitude of things. Mostly good. Almost entirely good, with just a little twinge of pining heartache.

**Clarke (9.23 p.m.)**

_I love gingerbread cookies._

**Lexa (9.23 p.m.)**

_They’re okay._

_I just like the decorating part, tbh._

They chatted about nonsense for a little while. Or, well, more than a little while – three hours, till Lexa’s eyes were drooping, and she was dozing off between each text. But she couldn’t set her phone down; she didn’t want to. To stop talking to Clarke was an impossible feat – she just enjoyed it too much.

**Clarke (01.47 a.m.)**

_Shouldn’t you sleep?_

**Lexa (01.48 a.m.)**

_Shouldn’t you too?_

**Clarke (01.49 a.m.)**

_Maybe._

_You’re very hard to stop talking to._

**Lexa (01.49 a.m.)**

_It’s a talent and a curse._

_But we should sleep. I should sleep._

_I’m practically falling asleep._

**Clarke (01.50 a.m.)**

_Then sleep._

**Lexa (01.50 a.m.)**

_Good night, Clarke._

_I’ll text you tomorrow?_

**Clarke (01.51 a.m.)**

_Good night._

_And please do._

Clarke almost added another text after that. _“You always make my day a little bit better”_ , she had wanted to send it off – but she hadn’t.

Instead, she’d sent some emojis, and set down her phone, smiling. She was glad Lexa had been happy to get the gift. She was yet to open it, of course, and didn’t know what was in it – but she was happy that she’d gotten Lexa a present.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I think we should get a tree.”

Abby set down her paper and looked at Clarke pointedly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Clarke nodded, eating a spoonful of cereal. “Christmas is in two days. About time.”

She knew why her mother was surprised. Getting the tree had always been a thing with her and her father.

They hadn’t had a tree for two years now. Abby had tried the first year, but Clarke had teared up when they’d gotten to the Target parking lot where they were meant to get the tree. But now she felt like she could handle it.

Hell, she was even a little bit excited for it.

“There’s that market downtown,” Abby began, pointing at the paper. “They have trees for sale, too. We could go there?”

“Sounds like fun.”

* * *

The market was charming to say the least. Christmas lights hung from little stand to the next, and there were real pine branches decorating the shops and stands and little tents, their scent wafting in the air, mixing with the scent of roasted chestnuts, mulled wine, gingerbread cookies…it smelled like warmth, and of Christmas.

It was cold out, and dark. The market opened at six every day the week before Christmas, and went on till midnight – it was more charming to walk around in darkness with lights and candles and lanterns everywhere. Everything seemed to be buzzing with excitement; Christmas was just around the corner, and most people had already started their holidays.

Abby had forced Clarke to wear a warmer scarf, insisting the wind chill would make it colder than it was. While Clarke had protested at first, she did know now that her mother had been right – her favorite scarf wouldn’t have done much of anything to keep her warm against the biting wind. There was ice on the ground, partly uncovered by gravel because so many people had walked over it. She really had to watch her step.

There were stands with handmade soap and stands with candles, shops with cheeses and jams and crackers for sale; there was a blacksmith showing off his work and selling coat-hangers and hair pins, and many more different tents and shops. They didn’t visit them all, but went to a few, browsing around with no particular aim.

It was in a moment where Clarke was momentarily alone that she saw Lexa.

She was standing on the other side of a group of people, and when they passed, Clarke saw Lexa wasn’t alone. She was standing by that friend of hers, a girl with curly hair and dark skin – Clarke was pretty sure her name was Costia.

Costia’s hand was around Lexa’s waist. And Lexa was leaning into her, laughing, they were both laughing…they looked like they were having fun. And it really, _really_ , looked like they were on a date.

Clarke didn’t look much after noticing that. She turned around, a weight of disappointment and jealousy descending on her chest, and didn’t look back till Lexa and Costia had disappeared.

She felt hurt and angry, and annoyed on top of that; annoyed at herself for being hurt. And for being a little bit angry. Not genuinely angry, just…pissy. Not happy to be seeing Lexa with someone else, on a date. It tasted bitter in her mouth and for a moment, it felt like her whole night had been ruined.

What she didn’t know was that Lexa and Costia weren’t on a date, and that there was a perfect reason for Costia’s hand around Lexa’s waist.

“I can’t believe you slipped and fell on your ass,” Costia giggled, still in disbelief. “It really looked like Bambi, you-“ she was interrupted by another fit of laughter. “God, your eyes were so wide-“

Lexa grumbled. “Shut up.”

“Funniest thing I’ve seen all year.”

“My ankle hurts, stop laughing.”

Costia tightened her grip of Lexa’s waist. “Then lean on me, stop being such a martyr.”

“It feels like I broke something,” Lexa groaned. “Fuck.”

“I’m sure you just twisted it.”

“Let’s hope so. Indra will kill me otherwise-”

“I’ll buy you something to cheer you up, here,” Costia said, turning them around to head towards a candle stand. “A candle. You love those.”

“You can’t just _buy_ me something and expect me to not be grumpy about my ankle,” Lexa muttered.

She did accept a candle though, a pretty beeswax one, which would smell very nice in her room. She rarely did say no to them, and Costia knew her well.

Later, on their way home, she saw Clarke. In the parking lot, struggling to get a tree tied on top of a car, with what Lexa guessed was her mother with her. She really couldn’t just walk past them. And her ankle didn’t hurt that much anymore.

“Let’s go help them,” Lexa said to Costia.

“Strangers?”

“No, I know Clarke. Come on, it’ll take like two minutes at most.”

Costia shrugged. “Fine, you saint.”

Lexa didn’t notice the strange look she gave her. She was too busy waving to Clarke and walking over with a smile on her face.

“Hey, do you need help?”

Clarke’s eyes went a little wide when she saw Lexa walking over with Costia in tow. “Um, yeah- you sure?”

“It’ll be easier with a few more of us,” Lexa assured her. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Really? That would be great,” Abby sighed, coming over from the front of the car. “Friends of yours, Clarke?”

She glanced at Clarke, who shrugged. “Yeah.”

Costia wasn’t her friend, but she figured it wasn’t too important to specify.

“They sold us a tree that’s way too big for our car,” Abby laughed. “Here, Lexa, is it? Grab the end there…”

Clarke hadn’t expected Lexa to come over, not with her date. She hadn’t expected her to help, either.

_Why does she have to be so nice?_

The tree was up on the roof in no time at all, secured tightly with ropes.

“Have a safe drive home,” Lexa had said before leaving.

Her smile had only made Clarke’s heart ache more. She would’ve rather have not seen Lexa with her date a second time.

“They were nice, weren’t they,” Abby said on their way home. “Helping us out like that.”

“That’s Lexa,” Clarke sighed. “She’s nice. Always ready to help.”

 

* * *

 

She didn’t talk to Lexa till Christmas morning, when she was surprised by an actual phone call from her. She only had a few seconds to panic before she realized Lexa could end the call before she answered, and so, with her heart still beating way too fast, she answered the call.

“Hey, Clarke,” was the first thing she heard. God, did she sound good.

“Hey."

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

“I opened your present,” Lexa said. “I love it.”

“You do?”

Clarke had gotten her the exact same fingerless gloves as what she had. She’d noticed Lexa envying them a few times, and knew her hands were always cold. And with the gloves, she’d bought a lavender-scented bath bomb and a box of handmade chocolates from the market, just something extra. Something simple but cute.

“They’re so comfy,” Lexa told her. “The gloves. So soft, and warm, and I love the color.”

They were a soft pearly gray. Clarke had thought that color would suit Lexa very nicely.

“I’m glad you like them. Thought they’d keep your hands warm, especially in the North building, it’s always cold there and half your classes are in there, so…yeah.”

“I love them, really.”

Clarke could practically hear the smile on Lexa’s lips.

“Did you open mine yet?”

“No, I-I’ll open it now.”

It was packaged neatly, or a very good attempt at neat packaging anyway – whatever was the actual present felt soft, and it was clear that Lexa had struggled in getting a clean, crisp wrapping around it.

 “Oh, it’s adorable.”

It really was. A stuffed raccoon, with the softest fur, like a teddy bear only a raccoon – it was beyond adorable.

“I just thought your bed looked empty,” Lexa shrugged on the other end. “And I saw it and it was cute so I thought of you-“

She faltered into silence, realizing exactly what she was saying. “Erm, I mean,” she cleared her throat. “You mentioned you loved raccoons. So…yeah.”

“It’s adorable, it really is,” Clarke smiled. “And so soft. How is it this soft?”

“I have no idea, that’s another reason why I bought it. Y’know, good to hug.”

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Glad you like it.”

“I really do.”

There was a slight pause.

“So, how’s your Christmas been?”

Clarke decided to lie just a little. “It’s been great.”

“Not too lonely, I hope? I know it can be a little…boring.”

How Lexa managed to figure out just what Clarke’s Christmas had really been like up till then, she did not know. It had been fine, just very quiet. On Christmas Eve, they’d visited her dad’s grave, taken some fresh flowers and new candles there. And then they’d just had a quiet night watching Christmas movies.

“We’re decorating gingerbread cookies later, I’m pretty excited for that.”

She may have been feeling a little down since the market. Just a twinge of upset, all because she saw some girl’s arm wrapped around Lexa’s waist. And it may have felt a little weird talking to her, too. And texting.

“That sounds neat. Bring me some?”

“I thought you didn’t like gingerbread cookies?”

“I know, and I’m kidding anyway. I’m at my parents.”

“Oh. They don’t live here, right?”

“No, I had a long drive yesterday to get here. So I’m happy to just not move for now. No need to go down yet, nobody’s going to be up for a few hours.”

“Any plans for today?”

“Eating? A walk in the snow?” Lexa laughed. “It’s Christmas. I want to do nothing.”

“Sounds great.”

* * *

After talking to Clarke, Lexa felt warm. And happy.

So happy, in fact, that when she went downstairs for breakfast, Anya noticed.

“Who were you on the phone with so early?”

“No one,” Lexa shrugged.

“I heard you talking. It wasn’t no one.”

“A friend.”

“Who?”

Lexa shrugged again and went to put the kettle on.

“Was it that pretty blonde of yours?”

“Her name is Clarke,” Lexa sighed, rolling her eyes. “And she’s not _my_ pretty blonde," she added, her voice a little quieter.

“But you do think she’s a pretty blonde?”

“Shut up.”

“Lex, what is up? Is it a crush?” Anya asked, teasing her a little. “Does my baby sister have a crush?”

Lexa unsuccessfully hid her blush behind her glass of orange juice. “Shut up.”

“So, when are you going to ask her out?”

“I’m not going to.”

“Why not?”

“I- I don’t know,” Lexa sighed. “I really don’t know.”

“She got you a Christmas present. And she looked real sad to find out you weren’t home…”

“Yeah, but…what if she says no? What if she isn’t even into girls?”

"How do you know she isn't?"

"She's had boyfriends-"

"Bisexuals exist-"

"But I'm  _terrible_ at telling bi girls from straight girls!" Lexa groaned. "I can't- I don't want to get my hopes up."

“Why not just ask? You'd know then, good or bad-”

“I don’t want things to get weird? She’s so nice and honestly I don’t want her not in my life, and I just…I don’t want things to get awkward.”

“But what if she says yes?”

Lexa hadn’t entertained that thought much, and so, had no answer.

“You like her. You want to date her, right?”

“I-“

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Shut up.”

“Is she pretty?” Anya asked, smirking a little.

Lexa rolled her eyes and chose not to answer.

“So she is, and you don’t want to admit it,” Anya concluded. “Just…don’t go pining after straight girls again. Please. I’d rather not have you be all sad and mopey for another two months.”

“She’s-“ Lexa sighed. “I don’t know what she is. And I don’t want you getting involved.”

“Why not? I could ask her out for you-“

“She’s not like other girls, ok? She’s…” Lexa couldn’t think of a word, and so fell silent. “She’s different.”

“I won’t get involved, fine,” Anya smiled, her hand coming to give Lexa’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “But if I find you crying over her she’s getting her ass kicked.”

“Don’t kick her ass.”

“If she hurts my baby sister, I will.”

Lexa smiled. “She won’t. I’m fine. I’m happy with things how they are. Maybe with time I’ll try and see if she’d be interested, but…I’m in no rush.”

“You’re still blushing a little.”

“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are fast approaching an actual date you guys  
> just a little bit more


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> friday fri-yay!!! this is a good one!!!

After a week had gone by, Lexa became worried about her ankle. It was four days after Christmas, a week since the market, and it still hurt as bad as it had on the day. And it looked and felt swollen.

And so, the second she got back home, she booked a doctor’s appointment. Just in case it wasn’t just a twisted ankle.

Anya drove her there, promising to pick her up afterwards – she’d run some errands while Lexa got her ankle checked out.

She’d only just managed to sit down when her name was called.

 “Lexa Woods?”

The doctor who walked into the waiting room was familiar, and within moments, Lexa realized why. It was Clarke’s mom.

“Hey, I think we’ve met before – at the market? I’m Dr. Abby Griffin. You’re Clarke’s friend, right?”

Lexa nodded. “Yeah. What a coincidence, huh?”

“Really. Let’s go into my office, shall we?”

* * *

“So, I met a friend of yours today.”

Clarke, having just taken a large bite of her food, looked up at her mother in surprise.

_A friend?_

“Lexa,” her mother continued, taking a sip of her water. “Woods?”

“She’s- she’s in my art history class,” Clarke stammered. “Where did you meet her?”

“She came in as a patient.”

Clarke’s eyes went wide, but her mother quickly assured her it was nothing to worry about.

“A small break on her ankle, all she needs is to rest it up and not put pressure on it for a few weeks and she’ll be fine.”

“I see.”

“I mentioned the lights exhibit to her, you know, the one on Saturday? At the-”

“Mo-om!”

“What?” Abby asked, genuinely surprised. “I figured that since I can’t go, she could go with you- I know how much you love going every year. She didn’t even know it was on, she sounded genuinely interested in going-“

Clarke groaned. “It’s embarrassing that you got involved.”

“How else would you ever leave the house, honey?”

Clarke would’ve gotten annoyed and possibly angry were it not for the genuine concern and worry in her mother’s voice. She would have yelled were it not for the fact that she quickly realized her mother would probably cry if she did – and whatever she did, she had no intentions of worrying or hurting her mom.

“I’ll…I’ll ask her about it,” she sighed, poking her food around on the plate. “Later.”

Abby gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and flashed her a warm smile, as if to say thank you. “It’s getting better, isn’t it?”

Clarke shrugged. “It is.”

She then flashed a bit of a smile at her mom. “You’re such a nosy mom, though.”

“What? I keep telling you, it's my job.”

 

* * *

 

Later that evening, Clarke laid on her bed and stared at her phone. Just stared, chewing her lip, unsure of what to say and do, not sure how to even begin planning the message. It shouldn’t have been as hard as she was making it out to be in her head. But it felt impossible nevertheless.

She should’ve just been able to send off a quick text. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t even sure why.

_Hey, there’s this cool lights show on at the Museum of Modern Arts this Saturday. Would you be interested?_

Too formal, Clarke thought. And deleted the message.

_Do you like art installations made from lights?_

No, that won’t work, Clarke decided, erasing the message.

_You free this Saturday?_

She went to delete that one, but her thumb went just quarter an inch too south, and instead of erasing, she pressed Send. When she realized she’d sent the message off, she almost choked on pure air – her chest tightened, and she almost threw her phone away when she saw Lexa had opened the message.

Three dots.

**(Lexa, 8:19 p.m.)**

_Yeah, why?_

Clarke took a deep breath. For a solid few minutes.

**(Clarke, 8:21 p.m.)**

_There’s this light installation show on at the modern art museum downtown. Would you go with me?_

Lexa replied almost immediately. Little did Clarke know that she was waiting for an answer – all day, she’d been wishing she could talk to her.

**(Lexa, 8:21 p.m.)**

_Your mom mentioned it today at the hospital._

_I’d love to go._

_I don’t know where the modern art museum is, though._

Clarke let out a little laugh when she saw that.

_What time is it?_

**(Clarke, 8:22 p.m.)**

_It’s at 7:30 in the evening._

_I’ll come over to your place some time before and drive you? Maybe 6:45?_

**(Lexa, 8:22 p.m.)**

_Drive me?_

_The time is fine, btw._

**(Clarke, 8:23 p.m.)**

_Didn’t you hurt your ankle?_

**(Lexa, 8:23 p.m.)**

_It was my left foot. I can drive just fine._

_You can be my charming guide, though, and tell me where to drive._

A smile snuck it’s way to Clarke’s lips when she saw the word charming on her phone’s screen.

_My charming guide._

She sighed and shook her head, closing her eyes. There was no way it would be a date, or that there would be a date at all. It was just a hangout. Just two friends, hanging out.

“It’ll be fun,” she said quietly to herself.

**(Clarke, 8:30 p.m.)**

_Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you Saturday._

**(Lexa, 8:32 p.m.)**

_I can’t wait!_

 

* * *

 

Saturday rolled around quicker than Clarke thought, and suddenly it was 4pm and she was due to leave for Lexa’s house in two hours and she couldn’t for the life of her decide what to wear.

Similarly enough, Lexa was standing in her bedroom, leaning against her dresser with her left foot in the air, her towel only barely hanging on her body as she looked around for the shirt she could have sworn she’d just put down on the chair before her. But it was nowhere to be seen.

“Anya-?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you take my shirt?”

“What shirt?”

“The blue flannel that was on the chair in my room?”

“Oh, that one,” Anya said, walking into Lexa’s room wearing the shirt in question. “This one?”

“Yes, that one. I need it.”

“I thought it’d go nice with my outfit.”

“But I really need it-“

“What for?”

Anya raised her brows in anticipation of Lexa’s answer, and she smirked when she saw Lexa falter.

“Who is she?”

“What?”

“You have a date.”

“No I don’t.”

“You’re _blushing_.”

“I _don’t_ have a date!”

“I don’t believe you,” Anya decided. “And you’re not getting this shirt till you tell me who you’re going out with.”

“No one, Anya, seriously. I’m just going to hang out.”

“With who? Friends?”

“A friend,” Lexa muttered, hopping away to her closet to get dressed.

“One friend? A _girl_?”

“Maybe-“

“Is it that blonde?”

Lexa didn’t reply for a while, chiefly because she was focusing on wiggling into some dark jeans while standing on one leg.

“I’m still waiting,” Anya informed her when she came out to get some socks from her dresser. She’d taken the flannel off, and was now dangling it from her hand, as if taunting Lexa. “You’re not getting your date shirt till you tell me.”

“Date shirt?”

“We both know this is the shirt you think you look the hottest in,” Anya smirked. “Casual but hot. Isn’t that what you told me?”

Lexa sighed. “Her name is Clarke. And it is _not_ a date.”

“Maybe you just don’t know it’s a date. Are you sure?”

“I-“

“What are you doing?”

“We-“ Lexa sighed, sitting down on her bed to give her ankle a rest. “We’re going to an art exhibit.”

“Are you going to eat?”

“After, yeah.”

“It’s a date.”

Lexa threw a pillow at Anya. “I’m not debating whether or not this is a date. But you’re either going to have to leave this house by six or I’m locking you in your room so you don’t study her.”

“When have I ever done that?”

Lexa didn’t even dignify that with an answer. Anya knew very well she had a habit of getting nosy and over-protective when it came to her little sister dating – but she didn’t care that it bothered Lexa. She was going to make sure Lexa only dated girls that deserved her, and not let her settle for less. Though she would have never actually interfered, she did like to be aware - just to know to stock the freezer with Lexa's comfort food, in case it was needed.

“Do you think she’s going to dress all nice for you?”

“It’s not a da-ate,” Lexa repeated, singing a little as she tried to focus on her eyeliner.

“You’re putting on makeup. Eyeliner, for god’s sakes.”

Lexa hadn’t thought much of it. She just…wanted to look nice. Put together. It wasn’t for any other reasons.

“Can I please just have the shirt?”

“Fine. You’re taking the car?”

“I’m working with only one good ankle. What do you think?”

“Can I have the keys, though? I need to get something from the trunk, I think I left my book there-“

“Sure, just don’t drive off.”

“As if I’d want to ruin your date,” Anya smirked.

* * *

Lexa decided to go down to the street to wait for Clarke, so as to avoid Anya meeting her and drawing up her own conclusions. She really didn’t want Clarke being interrogated and studied by her older sister – though she knew Anya meant well, Lexa wasn’t entirely sure how Clarke would react. She was a little more fragile than most, and Lexa would’ve never wanted her uncomfortable. And so instead she sat in her car, waiting for Clarke to come, trying to get the car to heat up to a bearable temperature. She had dressed up very warm, Clarke having told her to do so – apparently, the show took place outside.

“It’s a Christmas thing,” she’d said. “You’ll love it.”

Lexa had wanted to say she wouldn’t care even if it was hideous, she’d love it anyway just because Clarke was there. But she hadn’t said it, and had almost wanted to put her head through the wall for even thinking something so cheesy.

She saw Clarke before Clarke saw her. All bundled up, face almost entirely hidden behind her massive light blue scarf, a knitted white beanie and her hair surrounding her face like a slightly frozen halo. A long coat down to mid-thigh, thick wool and a pale grey, definitely as warm as can be – and mittens, adorable mittens which Lexa was sure were handmade. She looked warm and cozy and way too cute.

Her whole face lit up when Lexa opened the car door and waved at her to get her attention.

The tip of her nose and her cheeks were red when she got in the car.

“Cold, huh?”

Clarke nodded and rubbed her hands together. “A little, yeah. But it’s not too bad.”

“So, I looked up the museum,” Lexa told her as she started driving down the street. “And there’s this restaurant nearby that I _love._ ”

“Okay?”

“They do this sort of smoked meat thing, barbeque, the works; but the best part is, they have fireplaces and these little rooms, so you get to be in your own little nook with a roaring fire and good food…”

“Sounds amazing.”

“And, if we get cold during this show thing,” Lexa added. “It’ll be a good way to warm up.”

“Mmhmm…” Clarke nodded, looking out the window.

She was maybe a little nervous, and trying her best not to show it.

“You okay there, Clarke?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m- yeah. Totally.”

“You seem a little off.”

“I’m just excited,” Clarke smiled, swallowing the ball of anxiety in her throat and trying to force herself to relax. “I didn’t go last year, or the year before.”

“Why?”

Clarke sighed. “Used to be a tradition with my Dad.”

“Oh.” Lexa nodded, glancing at her, and paling slightly herself - she hoped she hadn't brought up any sad feelings. “Do you want to change the subject?”

Of course Clarke did. She didn’t want to ruin a good night by feeling sad. And so she nodded, unable to shake off the warm feeling that had enveloped her when Lexa had glanced at her with kindness and gentle intent in her eyes.

And so they talked about the newest season of a show Lexa had suggested Clarke watch. It was simple, it was easy, and soon enough they were at the museum, looking for a parking spot, and Clarke had not a single upsetting thought on her mind.

“There’s more people here than I expected,” Lexa muttered, trying to figure out where she could get her car.

“Can’t you park in the disability spot?”

“No,” Lexa sighed. “I don’t think I really need it.”

“You sort of do?”

“Someone might need it more,” Lexa decided, finding a spot not too far from the end of the lot.

“And besides,” she said as she got her crutches out, “I could walk on my ankle normally if I wanted. It’s just that your mom said I _shouldn’t_.”

“It’s still weird that you met my mom,” Clarke sighed. “Careful, there’s ice-“

Lexa rolled her eyes, but went around the ice anyway. “I’m not going to fall.”

“Don’t say that, then you’ll fall for sure.”

“What, you believe in jinxes?”

“Lexa, shut up, you’ll make it worse,” Clarke muttered. “Come on, let’s go, the show’ll start soon and we need to get our tickets.”

* * *

Turns out the show took place outside the museum, in a garden-like park that Lexa had no recollection of ever seeing. She didn’t know what was happening, and so was entirely confused when Clarke led her to an elevator, to which there was a line – evidently, all the spectators of the light show were headed for the roof.

“That’s the best place to watch the show when they start it.”

“Start what, exactly?”

“Turn on the lights, they do it every Saturday night during Christmas season,” Clarke smirked. “The whole park surrounding the museum, they fill it with light sculptures and installations, it’s absolutely amazing. I honestly can’t believe you’ve never heard of it.”

“I didn’t even know this city had a modern art museum,” Lexa confessed, blushing a little.

“Well, now you do.”

The elevator was packed so full that Clarke was forced to stand so close to Lexa she was almost pinned against her. She spent the whole way up trying to remember how to breathe.

Lexa, on the other hand, almost forgot to get out of the elevator because Clarke, having opened her coat upon entering the museum, had revealed a very well fitted sweater underneath. On being pushed almost into Lexa, the sweater had been tugged downwards, for just a brief second, but long enough for Lexa to accidentally glance down Clarke’s shirt and see a sight that made a pink hue rise to her cheeks and make her whole face feel very warm.

“Lexa? You okay?”

“Huh?”

“Are you coming?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lexa shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the image of Clarke's pale blue bra. “I was just stretching out my leg a little.”

“You sure you’re up to this? There’ll be some walking outside, too.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lexa assured Clarke, for probably the fourth time that night. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Up on the roof, which was a lot higher than what Lexa had expected, they found their way to the edge that faced the park. It was pitch dark, only the street lights further away and the city’s glow provided any light at all.

“When’s it going to start?”

“Five minutes,” Clarke whispered, an excited smile on her lips. “I wonder what they’ll do this year.”

She looked adorable leaning on the railing, the slight wind flicking her hair into her face.

The show began with some music. Light music, first barely visible, low drumming barely noticeable – and then, slowly, the volume grew, and more notes and tunes joined in, silencing the quiet hushed murmurs of the crowd around them.

And then…a light. A single lonesome light, twinkling at the far end of the park. And then another…and another…lights lit up for brief moments at a time, their brightness and speed intensifying slowly till the whole park was a sea of twinkling and blinking pale blue lights, like a pool of stars fallen from the sky.

A high note pierced the quiet, and all lights died out.

What came then could only be described as a flood of light. From the western end of the park, installations began to light up, in all possible colors and shades; golden fire-statues of lights and led sticks, trees shining an emerald green, hanging icicles of white light making it appear as though the largest tree in the park had turned into a waterfall; and little statues, here and there, of animals, of squirrels and deer and bears and the like, all the installations were lit one by one, to appear almost living for a brief moment before stilling and becoming part of the massive exhibit below.

Lexa watched, absolutely enchanted, unable to tear her eyes from the sight. It felt magical, the whole night, it was like watching a living fireworks display playing in the park, and she couldn’t imagine it getting any better.

But then she glanced to her side, and saw Clarke. Face lit by the lights below, a gentle smile on her lips, her eyes shining not from sadness but from joy; by all accounts, this would have been a good moment to kiss her. But Lexa did not want to disturb her, or distract her, and so instead she settled on stealing glances at her whenever she dared, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

She did, but only barely. The Christmas light show at the museum had been one of her favorite things since she was a child, and now, even though there was a slight sad feeling that lingered at the back of her mind, she felt happy. She was there, with someone she liked being around, with Lexa – she wouldn’t have ever gone alone. She would’ve been too sad. But with Lexa, the sad memories were pushed away, and newer, happier memories, were created.

Whatever became of them later was of no matter to her in that moment. It didn't matter that it wasn't a date, it didn't matter that in Clarke's mind, Lexa was off-limits; All she cared for was the fact that she was able to enjoy her favorite Christmas event wholeheartedly again.

The show ended with an explosion of light in all possible colors, so blinding the darkness afterwards felt blinding; the silence, too, felt deafening after the loud ending notes of the accompanying music of the show.

And then a hushed murmur arose in the crowd, and the people began making their way to the elevators.

“What now?”

“Now we go explore,” Clarke grinned. She would have taken Lexa’s hand had it not been occupied in operating a crutch. “Come on.”

“Don’t rush, I can’t see anything and the ground might be slippery,” Lexa laughed, trying to see if she was placing her crutches on anything slippery. “I really need to get those ice spikes on these.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Wouldn’t be great if I fell on my face, now would it?”

Clarke laughed and shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t.”

* * *

The park was absolutely awestriking from the ground as well. It was like a fairytale forest, with twinkling stars hanging from branches, ice sculptures lit up from within to appear as though there was a firelight twinkling inside them; and the people, everyone was hushed and quiet, walking hand in hand, leaning in to speak to one another as if fearing that any sound louder than a whisper would break the spell-like atmosphere around them.

“This is so beautiful,” Lexa said quietly, staring up at a tree, the twinkling lights reflecting in her eyes. “I can’t believe I never heard of this before. Everyone should know about this.”

Clarke smiled, but said nothing. In her heart, she was very happy, happy to have taken Lexa here for her first time; the awe in her eyes was just something else.

It didn’t matter that Clarke was a little confused. It felt like a date, and yet she was sure it couldn’t be – she didn’t even know if Lexa was single. And she didn’t really know how to bring it up.

She’d just resolved to not think about it.

Not too much, at least. She was just there, enjoying herself, having fun with Lexa.

Completely platonic.

They didn’t talk much as they explored the park. There was no need to – they were both so enchanted by their surroundings that they resolved to simply enjoy that.

Clarke didn’t notice the few pictures Lexa took of her.

Lexa didn’t notice the one picture Clarke took of her.

And they both saved the pictures in their phones, both equally as intent on never revealing to the other that they had taken them.

Eventually it got colder, and after exploring as much of the park as they could, they made their way to the car.

“Food?”

“Yes, please,” Clarke sighed. “I’m freezing. A roaring fire sounds amazing right now.”

Not fifteen minutes later, they were being led to a table at the restaurant Lexa had picked. They went down some stairs into what seemed like a basement, but in actuality was a lower floor by the riverside; the walls were red brick, and decorated with simple prints and hanging plants, rustic-looking lamps and candles lighting up the space with a warm glow which was the perfect pairing to the warm fires burning in the little maze of rooms filling the lower floor.

“Oh, this is so cute,” had been Clarke’s sighed comment when they’d made their way to the bottom of the stairs.

“Just wait till you taste the food.”

Lexa had slow-roasted lamb with roast vegetables on the side. Clarke opted for the beef stew on Lexa’s recommendation.

“We can share,” Lexa had shrugged. “There’s going to be so much to go around anyway.”

She was right about that. And she was right about the restaurant being a good place to warm up; with a fire right by them, and the food arriving soon and being very hearty and warm, they were both soon completely cozy, and in very good spirits.

“I think this is my new favorite restaurant,” Clarke told Lexa after they’d eaten, and were waiting for dessert.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if it was,” Lexa smiled back. “I don’t get to come here so often,” she sighed. “Not nearly as often as I’d like.”

“Why not?”

“My friends don’t really like it,” Lexa shrugged. “They like places where you can fit more than six people in one booth, and where it won’t feel awkward if you’re being very loud. This is made more for…intimate settings. You know, two people, maybe three, but no more than five.”

“I get it,” Clarke nodded. “This isn’t exactly a place to be having a party at. Or loud conversation.”

“Yeah.”

There was a brief pause in their conversation due to the arrival of dessert – or, to be more precise, desserts. Lexa had insisted on ordering the tasting tray, which basically consisted of small plates of each dessert on the menu, seven little bowls and plates in total. There was warm blackberry pie with vanilla sauce, a brownie, a small serving of raspberry gelato – a little of everything, but not too much of any.

Clarke tried the pie first, chiefly because Lexa insisted – and absolutely loved it.

“I could eat this whole thing.”

“You can, if you want,” Lexa smiled, focusing on savouring her spoonful of gelato.

“Don’t you want any?”

“I’ve had it before.”

“Have one bite,” Clarke insisted.

And so Lexa had one small bite, despite knowing full well she could’ve easily devoured a whole large serving. She was more than happy to give up that pleasure for the enjoyment of watching Clarke be happy.

* * *

Lexa insisted on paying. Clarke had paid for the museum show, and so, as it had been her idea to come to the restaurant, she thought it was only fair that she paid now.

“My treat,” she’d smiled, and Clarke hadn’t been able to argue with that.

She walked up the stairs behind Lexa, and helped her a little when she staggered and almost fell down.

“Try not to die, will you?”

Lexa had just laughed and kept her face up front, trying really not to blush so fiercely at the fact that Clarke’s hands had been on her waist for the briefest of moments.

They drove back home in comfortable silence. Snow was falling gently, and the streets were almost empty – it was way past midnight, and the city was essentially dead. Soft and quiet, it looked like everything was asleep in the deep blue night; only the yellow streetlights and the rays of the car’s headlights cut the blue dark of everything around them.

Lexa first drove Clarke home. When the car had come to a standstill, there was a brief moment of tension – Clarke didn’t know what to say, to say thank you, or to do something, and Lexa didn’t know what to expect or do either.

She looked around, trying to think of something, when her eyes fixed on something hanging on the back of the rear view mirror that she hadn’t noticed before. Clarke noticed her stare, and her eyes followed her gaze – and she, too, frowned.

“Is that-“

“Mistletoe?” Lexa finished, equally as confused as Clarke was. “What?”

She was mostly speaking to herself, and so didn’t notice that a slight smile had snuck it’s way to Clarke’s lips.

She was feeling brave. She’d had a great night, she was in good spirits, and Lexa was so close. It was one of those now or never moments.

She’d let one too many of such moments slip away.

This one, well, this one she decided to seize.

“Well?” she began, drawing Lexa’s attention to herself. “Do you want to?”

Her heart about stopped when she got the words out.

Lexa frowned, her eyes full of confusion. “Want to what?”

Clarke looked at the mistletoe, then back at Lexa. “Take advantage of that.”

Lexa’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what?”

Clarke knew her courage would run out soon if she didn’t do something. And so she did. She leaned even more forward, reached out to cup Lexa’s face with her hand, and pulled her closer – and kissed her.

Lexa was so thoroughly stunned by Clarke’s hand on her cheek and then Clarke’s lips engulfing hers all soft and gentle that she didn’t even think she should react. She simply did not think at all.

And then she suddenly withdrew, muttered a thank you for the night, and was gone. Lexa didn’t see the pained frown on Clarke’s face, didn’t realize that Clarke had convinced herself she’d made a mistake – she was in such a stupor she could barely see two feet in front of her, let alone think a thought more complex than ‘whoa’.

But Clarke was gone, and it was getting cold in the car. So she started the engine once she saw Clarke get to the door and drove off, not noticing Clarke standing in the doorway, staring back at the car with a worried look on her face. When she’d kissed Lexa, for the briefest of moments, she hadn’t thought of anything. It had felt amazing. But then she’d gotten so overwhelmingly aware of Lexa not moving that she had panicked and left, rushed out without even wanting to see what Lexa’s reaction was.

She’d been so afraid of seeing disgust on Lexa’s face that she hadn’t wanted to see her face at all.

When she got in the house, she was surprised to find her mother’s coat hanging by the door. She was even more surprised, and slightly embarrassed, to find her sitting in the living room, reading a book.

_I hope she didn’t see any of that._

“How was the show?”

“It was beautiful,” Clarke muttered, trying to rush upstairs as fast as she could.

“Did Lexa enjoy it?”

“Yes, she did.”

“You’re home quite late.”

“We went to eat afterwards.”

Abby glanced up from her book and gave Clarke a smile. “I’m glad you had fun.”

_Maybe, but I might’ve ruined it at the end._

“I’m going to go to bed, I’m tired,” she muttered, rushing up the stairs and to her room as fast as she could. She could only barely bother to brush her teeth and change into pajamas – her makeup she wiped off half-heartedly, not really caring if she’d wake up with smeared mascara on her face.

She collapsed into bed, buried her face into some pillows, and tried to fall asleep as fast as she could so she wouldn’t think of Lexa’s lips on hers and the sinking feeling it had left in her gut when she’d realized Lexa wasn’t kissing her back.

* * *

Lexa drove home in a blissful stupor with the taste of Clarke’s lips still lingering on hers and her head floating in the clouds. She had no idea about Clarke’s thoughts or worries, not even the slightest hint – in her mind, the night had been more a success than what she could have hoped for.

She couldn’t wipe her smile off her face when she walked into the apartment. Anya was still up, flipping through a magazine in the kitchen while waiting for the kettle to boil.

“Have a fun night?”

Lexa sighed. “Yeah.”

“Did the mistletoe work?”

Lexa let out an even deeper sigh. “Yeah.”

“So,” Anya grinned, looking up her magazine looking incredibly smug. “It was a date after all?”

Lexa just rolled her eyes at her and went her way to her room.

It wasn’t a date.

Or maybe it was.

Or something very close to one, anyway.

The smile on her lips didn’t disappear even after she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ROMANCE FINALLY HAPPENED YO  
> or something close to it  
> hope you enjoyed that


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a cute one y'all get ready

Lexa awoke in the morning to the realization that her text to Clarke hadn’t sent. She’d typed it up, a simple ‘tonight was so much fun, thank you’, but for some reason or another, it just hadn’t sent.

And now it was 10am and Lexa was sure it was too late for a goodnight text.

So she settled for a good morning instead.

**(Lexa, 10:07 a.m.)**

_Good morning!_

_Yesterday was very fun._

When Clarke heard her phone buzz, she groaned. But she didn’t open it, no; she grabbed her phone, swiped the preview of the text away without looking at it, and shoved it into a drawer before slumping back into bed.

She didn’t want to talk.

She didn’t want to even know what Lexa was saying, really. She couldn’t even imagine it would be anything nice; there hadn’t been a text the night before, and Clarke had laid in bed almost all night, convincing herself further that she’d messed up royally.

She just wished she could sleep and not think. Even just for a little while.

The whole day, she laid in bed, barely leaving it at all – just to the bathroom and to eat. She did take a shower, as an attempt to distract herself, but it wasn’t very fruitful. She mostly just watched videos and shows that she paid little to no attention to, and made several attempts at drawing before tossing her sketchpad away in frustration - she just couldn't for the life of her focus on anything.

Clarke didn’t know that Lexa kept checking her phone throughout the day, growing more and more worried as the hours went by with no response.

“Lexa, seriously,” Costia groaned when Lexa checked her phone once again. “You’ve checked your phone twenty times and you’ve only been here for half an hour. What on earth is up?”

“Nothing,” Lexa muttered, shoving her phone in her pocket. “I’m just waiting for a text.”

“Seems important,” Costia commented, leaning over to pour some more tea into Lexa’s cup. “You’re not paying attention.”

“I- yeah,” Lexa sighed. “That’s fair.”

“What’s it about?”

“Huh?”

“The message you’re waiting for.”

“Just- someone promised they’d message me, and they haven’t yet.”

“Maybe they’re busy.”

“Probably,” Lexa shrugged.

Granted, Clarke hadn’t promised to message her – but usually, she responded within the hour.

Now, it’d been ten hours, and nothing.

“So…what color do you want your nails done?”

Lexa shrugged. “Pink.”

“You always choose pink.”

“You know I like it.”

“How about a pale lilac?”

 

* * *

 

When Lexa left Costia’s place, with nails painted lilac and a new type of braid done in her hair, she checked her phone again.

Still, nothing.

**(Lexa, 8.09 p.m.)**

_Hey._

_You okay?_

She sat in her car for a good twenty minutes, waiting for a response, but soon realized she wouldn’t get one. And then she got worried.

She’d dialled Clarke’s number before she really thought it through.

Clarke, when she saw Lexa was calling her, had panicked.

It was one thing to ignore a text. To hang up on her? That would’ve been too much.

“Hey?”

Lexa was confused to hear Clarke’s voice sound so small. Shy, even.

“Hey,” she replied, smiling a little. “I just- I hadn’t heard from you all day. Are you okay?”

There was a moment of silence before Clarke replied. “I- I’m fine, yeah.”

“You sound weird.”

Clarke felt weird, that was for sure. “I…I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I-“

“What? The kiss?” Lexa asked, beyond confused.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I just- I misread the moment, the situation, I-" Clarke clammed up when she felt her eyes start burning with the promise of tears. She was not about to cry while on the phone with Lexa.

“Clarke, I- you don’t have to be sorry about that," Lexa stammered. She'd felt a drop in her stomach when she'd realized how Clarke was feeling, what she was thinking - how she'd managed to misread everything in such a way, Lexa did not know, but she hated the fact that Clarke had been feeling bad and she hadn't even been aware.

"You really don't have to be sorry," Lexa continued. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I didn't?"

"No, Clarke- I liked it."

Clarke didn’t reply.

That was simply because she was, at that moment, not believing a word Lexa had just said.

“Are you home?”

“Huh? Yeah-“

“I’ll be over in 5.”

Lexa hung up, and then she’d started her car and was off, driving to Clarke’s house as fast as she dared. She couldn’t let Clarke wallow in worry and self-pity over something that she didn’t even have to apologize for, not for a second longer – she already felt terrible for the hours of torment she’d probably put Clarke through without even realizing.

The twenty seconds or so it took for the door to the Griffin house to be answered were beyond agonizing for Lexa. But when a sleepy-looking, dishevelled Clarke answered the door, Lexa couldn’t help but smile. Even when she wasn’t trying, Clarke was stunning.

“Hey,” Clarke smiled, looking a little confused. “Um-“

 “Who is it?” came a call from inside the house. Clarke glanced back, appearing slightly panicked, chiefly because she was worrying her mom would come to the door and see her with Lexa. Nothing was happening, but still – she didn’t want her _mother_ in the way.

“It’s no one,” Clarke answered, turning to look at Lexa shyly. “What are you doing here?”

“I-“ Lexa paused. All of a sudden, she’d forgotten all words.

“My mom’s going to start complaining about me letting the cold in, so be quick,” Clarke muttered, rubbing her arms to stay warm.

“Clarke-? Why are you keeping the door open?”

Clarke glanced back to answer her mother, and when she turned back, she found Lexa way closer than she’d been – and then, the next second, Lexa’s hand was on her neck, pulling her closer, and Lexa’s lips were on hers-

She quite literally stopped thinking. Her hand touched Lexa’s arm, lightly grasping as if for support as she kissed back, leaning in to Lexa just slightly, head spinning, certain she wouldn’t be able to see right if she were to open her eyes. Lexa felt almost the same, except there was also a rush of adrenaline running through her veins – her fear had transformed to overwhelming joy, and bliss, and now, standing there with Clarke there kissing her, she felt…right.

The cold around them was of no matter, time was of no consequence, all she cared for was the soft feeling of Clarke’s lips on hers and the silky feel of her skin beneath her fingertips.

“Clarke?”

That burst their bubble. Clarke withdrew, and Lexa, initially confused, sought out her lips for another kiss – but Clarke pushed her away, gently, with an apologetic smile on her lips.

“Not here,” she muttered, cheeks a beautiful rosy hue from either blushing or excitement. “I- she’ll see. It’ll be weird.”

“I’ll text you,” Lexa replied, her voice barely above a breath – she could barely regain her breath overall. And then she smiled, unable to contain it, and turned to leave. “Promise.”

"Wait-"

Lexa felt Clarke's hand on her arm, and let herself be spun around, and then was kissed again; when she felt Clarke's lips curl to a smile against her own, she almost forgot where she was. Hell, she could barely stand on two feet.

Clarke couldn’t wipe the smile from her face when she went back inside. Not even when she was trying to explain to her mother why she’d been at the door that long for ‘nothing’ – she had to bite her tongue and curl her toes and focus every cell of her being on not grinning like a dumb idiot. And still she failed.

Her mother just didn’t ask her why she was beaming. She figured Clarke was trying to conceal it for a reason, and didn’t want to pry.

It took Lexa a solid twenty minutes to recover enough to be able to drive. She just couldn’t stop whispering ‘oh my god’ to herself, couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop tapping the steering wheel for no other reason than that she just needed to get her bubbly excitement out somehow. She felt like she could dance, or run seventy miles downhill while laughing, feeling like she was at the very top of the world; everything just felt…amazing.

And overwhelming.

_I kissed Clarke. And she kissed me._

Her smile, that gentle, warm smile after the kiss, had captivated Lexa’s whole being so thoroughly she was sure a part of her heart had jumped ship and stayed with Clarke. She felt soft inside, and warm, oh-so warm – she wasn’t so sure she’d ever come down from this high.

That night, they both laid in bed, tossing around, unable to even grasp at the slightest hints of sleep.

Clarke was hugging the raccoon Lexa had given her, swinging her legs in the air, still smiling.

Lexa was laying on her side, staring at her phone, trying to figure out what text to send to Clarke.

She may have been hugging a pillow for courage.

_This is dumb. I kissed her. She kissed me. Why am I still afraid?_

It felt weird addressing this…thing that had transpired between them. It felt wrong to give it a name, or to even attempt calling it anything – in reality, Lexa would’ve much preferred no talking and just kissing.

But she was reasonable, and in the end, she knew she wanted to know where she stood and what they were.

Maybe it wasn’t time for the ‘what are we’ talk, not quite yet, but there was definitely need for some sort of a talk.

**(Lexa, 11:57 p.m.)**

_So…today?_

_Amazing._

She smiled a little, and then, in a fit of courage, added:

_You’re pretty amazing._

When Clarke saw that Lexa had texted her, a warmth spread through her body from her head to the very tips of her toes.

**(Clarke, 11:58 p.m.)**

_Too bad you couldn’t stay for longer._

**(Lexa, 11:58 p.m.)**

_Oh? What for?_

**(Clarke, 11:58 p.m.)**

_You know._

**(Lexa, 11:59 p.m.)**

_Maybe._

_But I want you to say it._

Clarke laughed into her pillow and shook her head.

Her face felt warm.

**(Clarke, 12:00 a.m.)**

_I wanted to kiss you more._

For whatever reason, a burst of nerves and butterflies erupted in her stomach when she sent off the text – completely unnecessary, when she knew very well Lexa was more than receptive to the idea.

**_(Lexa, 12:00 a.m.)_ **

_Me too._

_How about we set a date?_

**(Clarke, 12:01 a.m.)**

_For kissing?_

_Or do you mean an actual date?_

**(Lexa, 12:01 a.m.)**

_A little bit of both?_

There was a slight pause before Lexa got a response.

**(Clarke, 12:02 a.m.)**

_So you’re single?_

_Right?_

That confused Lexa.

**(Lexa, 12:02 a.m.)**

_What? Of course I am._

_What makes you think I’m not?_

( **Clarke, 12:03 a.m.)**

_At the market, it seemed like you were on a date._

_With that friend?_

**(Lexa, 12:03 a.m.)**

_Oh, no. That was just Costia._

_I’m not dating her._

_I’m not dating anyone._

_I promise._

She wanted to add a ‘I’m trying to date you’ but decided against it.

**(Clarke, 12:04 a.m.)**

_That’s good._

**(Lexa, 12:04 a.m.)**

_So…a date?_

**(Clarke, 12:05 a.m.)**

_What are you suggesting?_

**(Lexa, 12:05 a.m.)**

_Movies at my place? And good food?_

**(Clarke, 12:05 a.m.)**

_Sounds good._

_When?_

**(Lexa, 12:06 a.m.)**

_Anya’s not here on Tuesday._

_So maybe then?_

_If you’re free?_

Clarke wanted to laugh at that. When was she ever not free?

**_(Clarke, 12:06 a.m.)_ **

_Tuesday then._

_Can’t wait._

 

* * *

 

Tuesday afternoon, Clarke sent Lexa a text.

**(Clarke, 3:05 p.m.)**

_What time should I come over?_

**(Lexa, 3:08 p.m.)**

_I need to run some errands, so…six okay?_

_Just so I have time to clean out the mess._

_Anya left it, not me._

_I’m not that messy._

**(Clarke, 3:09 p.m.)**

_Sounds good._

She was still smiling when she got home. She kept on smiling as she laid around, doing pretty much nothing, just waiting for the clock to strike 5:30 so she could leave.

When it struck 4, she suddenly realized she hadn’t thought at all about what to wear. She had been so consumed at thinking about what would happen once she’d get to Lexa’s place that she had forgotten entirely that it was, in essence, a date.

“Shit.”

She didn’t even know what was appropriate. It wasn’t a dinner date, they were literally just going to hang out – but a hoodie and jeans felt boring.

She didn’t want to look boring. Or like she hadn’t tried.

And so she took a quick shower, even washing her hair and bothering to take the time to dry it with a hairdryer, which she _never_ did.

As for her outfit, she ended up settling on dark jeans, a cute long-sleeve top, and a long chunky creamy-white knit cardigan with sleeves that went over her knuckles and large pockets. It was her favorite, and looked at least a bit more like effort compared to a hoodie.

There may have been a pile of clothes, outfits tried on and discarded, on the chair in her room. 

Her hair she twisted up into a messy bun.

Makeup, too – eyeliner, mascara, even a little bit of pink chapstick.

It was the most effort she’d put into her looks in months.

* * *

At the same time that Clarke closed her front door behind her and set her course for Lexa’s apartment, Lexa slumped down into the barstool in her kitchen, having only just finished tidying up the apartment. There were two clean plates in the living room, and two glasses, and a few different drinks cooling in the fridge – she hadn’t ordered any food as of yet, as she had figured she and Clarke should decide together.

She was wearing a flannel and her comfy jeans. If she’d been alone, she would have been wearing leggings, but they hadn’t felt appropriate for a date – at least, not for one this early in the game.

She was nervous. She couldn’t stop licking her lips, and fidgeted with a strand of her hair that just wouldn’t stay in the braid she’d made. Her eyes were fixed on the street below, staring at the furthest streetlamp she could see, just itching to see the one person she cared to see, approaching.

When she did see Clarke, her lips were overtaken by a smile, and her leg relaxed and stopped bouncing altogether; her hand came to rest on the table, and she quietly watched as Clarke’s figure approached, came closer, till she disappeared into the staircase below.

* * *

When Clarke knocked on the door, her stomach did a thousand flips.

When Lexa opened the door, a smile spread to her lips – but there was tension. Excited, electric tension, but tension still; though she would have liked nothing more than to kiss Lexa right there and then, she did not.

Instead, she stepped into the apartment with a quiet ‘hi’ to Lexa.

“I can take your coat,” Lexa offered, extending her hand out.

She turned around to put Clarke’s coat away, but never managed to get to it. That was because before she could even take those two steps to the closet, she felt a hand on her arm, turning her around, pulling her in – and then, a kiss.

Despite all she had thought, Clarke found she was barely able to contain herself around Lexa. And now, alone with her, safely hidden behind closed doors – well, she just couldn’t stop herself.

She faintly noticed her coat slipping out of Lexa’s hand to the floor, but did not care. Nor did Lexa. They were both more focused on one another, on their lips and pulling on hips and arms to draw in close, closer, to deepen the kiss.

Clarke’s hands on Lexa’s waist were tight, and so right. She could only barely keep it together.

When they broke apart for just a breath, Lexa let slip the first thought that came to her mind.

“God, you smell _amazing._ ”

Clarke’s coat was on the floor, her bag discarded beside it; she hadn’t even managed to take off her scarf, or shoes.

“So do you,” Clarke murmured, grinning a little as she leaned in for another kiss. “So good-“

Lexa had thought she’d suggest they move to the living room. But all plans of such were wiped from her mind when Clarke pressed her more into the wall behind her, almost pinning her down, and kissed her again, almost with demand. It took all Lexa had just to remember to breathe.

Fifteen minutes later, she finally remembered what she’d meant to say.

“We should maybe move to the living room,” she laughed, gaze more fixed on Clarke’s lips than her eyes.

“Maybe,” came Clarke’s response, and another kiss. Her eyes were shining a smile brighter than anything Lexa had seen from her yet – just seeing it was intoxicating, adding to the already spinning condition of her head and heart in a way that made her grateful for the wall behind her back.

“And order some food,” Lexa added, leaning her head back against the wall, as if for support.

“Mhmm…” Clarke hummed.

A brief pause, and neither of them spoke.

“Well?”

“Huh?” Lexa was completely confused. “What?”

“The living room?”

“You’d need to get off of me for that.”

Reluctantly as ever, Clarke withdrew her hands, and stepped back. Lexa half hopped, half limped a few steps forward – her crutches she’d left somewhere – but Clarke quickly stepped in, wrapped an arm around her waist, and helped her out.

“I’ll go put my scarf away,” Clarke muttered, realizing she was still wearing it. “I’ll be right back.”

She came back to find Lexa sitting on the couch, her laptop open in front of her.

“I didn’t order anything yet,” she said, not raising her eyes from the screen as Clarke made her way over. “Figured we should-“

Her breath hitched in her throat when Clarke sat down _right_ next to her, her thigh touching hers, and her hand resting on Lexa’s shoulder – tentative, they were both tense, but it was still something so comfortably casual that Lexa literally forgot what she was saying.

“Should what?”

“Order food,” Lexa stammered, swallowing hard. “So we don’t, you know, starve.”

She bit back an eating out joke she knew Costia would have made if she were there. She figured they weren’t quite there yet.

Clarke, too, thought briefly of making a joke like that, but chose to say nothing at all.

They settled on ordering Greek food after Lexa assured Clarke that the restaurant two blocks down was amazing.

“I trust your taste in restaurants,” Clarke smiled, leaning back on the couch. “The café downstairs is great, and so was that restaurant on Saturday…”

Lexa frowned a little, having been reminded of a nagging question that had lingered in her mind ever since Saturday night.

“Was that- was that a date? On Saturday?”

Clarke lets out a laugh and shakes her head. “I- I don’t know. Maybe?”

“What did you think it was? Before the whole…mistletoe incident?”

“Mistletoe incident?” Clarke giggled. “The kiss?”

“Yeah,” Lexa mutters, blushing a little.

“I don’t know,” came Clarke’s response to the question. “I guess I just thought we were hanging out.”

“Me too.”

“Your ears go a cute red when you’re embarrassed,” Clarke commented, her hand reaching out instinctively to tuck a strand of hair away from Lexa’s face. When she realized what she was doing, she pulled her hand back, suddenly overcome by a fear that she was overstepping boundaries that she very well knew weren’t even there.

Lexa noticed her hesitation. And was left confused.

“Why-“ she faltered, rephrasing her question in her head. “Are you okay?”

Clarke nodded. “I am, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

Lexa watched Clarke’s fingers fiddle with the hem of her shirt for a while before she answered.

“I might be a little…afraid,” Clarke began quietly, pausing to glance at Lexa. “I- my last relationship didn’t end so well.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Eventually,” Clarke promised with a hint of a smile. “But not today.”

Lexa would have settled for anything. “When you’re ready. Any time.”

“It’s nothing massively horrible, I promise,” Clarke told her. “It’s not like I had a messy divorce or anything.”

“But it’s painful,” Lexa nodded, understanding. “And maybe tonight you don’t want to think about that?”

Clarke nodded, and let out a sigh.

“But what do you mean afraid?”

There was a long silence before Lexa got her answer.

Or, at first, only an attempt at one.

“I…” Clarke sighed again. “You want this? _Me_?”

The last part was added almost as an afterthought, in a voice so quiet Lexa only barely heard it – and the vulnerability in Clarke’s voice drew her to sit up and turn to look at her in surprise.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

It was such a simple answer, one which Lexa did not have to think about at all – to her, it was the truth.

She could not think of a single reason why she wouldn’t want Clarke, in any way that she could get her – as a friend, or more, she did not care.

Well, maybe she did care a little, and favour the ‘more’ option, but overall, there was nothing that she could see in Clarke that would make her _not_ want her.

But Clarke only saw excuses and reasons as to why she wouldn’t be wanted, and so was just as bewildered by Lexa’s answer as Lexa had been by her question.

For a while, they just stared at one another, both slightly surprised and confused by the other.

The silence was broken by Lexa, who reached out for Clarke’s hand before speaking.

“Seriously, Clarke,” she said, her voice now shy and quiet. “You’re amazing. And _so_ pretty, god, I can _say_ that now- and you’re so interesting and so different and new and I really do want ‘this’- well, I don’t know what this is, but I do want _you._ ”

Clarke was quiet for a while. Not because she didn’t want to say anything, but because she couldn’t.

But she heard the honesty in Lexa’s voice, and knew she wouldn’t lie – and that set off a change within her that even she, at the time, did not recognize.

“You’re serious?”

It may have broken a little bit of Lexa’s heart to realize that Clarke, despite being so amazing in her eyes, did not seem to see herself the same way.

Perhaps she promised herself, there and then, to try her best to get Clarke to see what she saw. Or even something as close to what she saw as she could provide.

“I’m dead serious,” Lexa nodded. “I’m trying to date you, Clarke. Because I want to.”

She was holding Clarke’s hand, almost a little bit too tight, rubbing her soft skin with her thumb. She wanted to pull her forward so she could kiss her, but felt that she should wait – if for just a moment.

“I don’t know what this is either,” Clarke agreed after a while, letting out a little laugh. “But I like it, either way.”

“And we don’t have to talk about it right _now,_ ” Lexa added, smiling. “There’s time.”

“Yeah, it’s only our first date.”

At that, they both froze for a little moment, eyes widening – and then, realizing that they had both been a little shocked by the realization, they laughed.

And then they kissed again.

* * *

In the end, they never put on a movie to watch. They ate when the food came, and talked of this and that and everything they could think of. It felt much easier now that they weren’t trying to conceal anything – no more hidden smiles, no more swallowed sighs and feelings, no more curling toes under the table to try and regain some control over their emotions. They were comfortably open with another, and could openly look at each other without feeling strange.

Lexa couldn’t stop looking at Clarke. She just looked so…cute. And pretty.

Beautiful, even.

She was made even more beautiful when she laughed and told her to stop staring.

That evening, they learned a lot about one another. Lexa learned that Clarke preferred being the big spoon, she learned that Clarke’s lower back was a particularly sensitive part of her body; she learned that the crook of Clarke’s neck fit her head perfectly, and was the most comfortable way to lay, with Clarke’s arm cradling her head, one arm slung over Clarke’s waist, lips grazing Clarke’s collarbone – pressing an occasional kiss to her soft skin was the purest bliss of all.

Clarke learned that Lexa was the perfect cuddler. Her body seemed to just melt into her shape, she felt small and big at the same time; the weight of her on top was just perfect, the taste of her mouth was divine, and her hands were so delicate and tender with their touches Clarke wasn't sure she'd ever been touched so gently.

Lexa hadn’t pushed any further beyond kissing and cuddling. Clarke had seemed to hesitate whenever things had begun heating up more, and Lexa had, after one such occasion, stopped her to reassure her.

“We can just cuddle and kiss for now, okay?”

The slight relief she’d seen in Clarke’s eyes had been satisfaction enough. Lexa wasn’t offended that Clarke seemed relieved that sex was off the table, at least for now – she figured that there was an actual reason for it that had little to do with her.

In actuality, Lexa wasn’t really the type to have sex on the first date anyway. With Clarke, she would have done it, had Clarke wanted to – but she was just as happy waiting.

Kissing was overwhelming enough. Lexa was happy that she could get used to that before anything beyond that happened. Otherwise, she had thought to herself, she would have probably fainted once they got down to it.

Clarke, on the other hand, had tried her best to not overthink. She had succeeded, for the most part. She had been able to settle into a comfortable state where all she thought about was how good Lexa’s body felt wrapped up with her own, and how good Lexa’s lips felt on hers.

Her mouth tasted amazing, too. Even when they weren’t kissing, Clarke could taste Lexa in her mouth, and it was one of those little things that kept her smiling so much that by the end of the night her cheeks hurt.

“It’s getting late,” Lexa murmured, lips ghosting over Clarke’s neck as she raised her head up to look at her.

It wasn’t just a statement. It was also a question.

_Are you going to stay?_

Clarke would have felt strange, staying the night, possibly in the same bed, were it not Lexa. But Lexa…she was so kind. And so understanding. And Clarke knew Lexa wouldn’t read too much into it.

“I could just stay right here,” Clarke yawned, hiding her face from Lexa, not wanting her to see her yawn. “I’m so comfy.”

“Then do.”

“I don’t have pajamas.”

“So? I can lend you some.”

“Or a toothbrush.”

“I have an unused one for guest purposes.”

Clarke let out a laugh. “Of course you do.”

“Hey, it’s useful now, is it not?”

Silence.

“So…I can stay?”

Lexa had to suppress the urge to reply as desperately as she wanted to.

_God, please._

“Of course you can. I have room in my bed.”

_And I’ve hated having so much empty space in it._

* * *

Lexa hadn’t known to prepare herself for when Clarke stepped out of the bathroom wearing _her_ shorts and _her_ sleep shirt. She looked cute beyond words and it was only barely that Lexa could keep it together before slipping in to the bathroom herself.

“God,” she muttered to herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, “She’s perfect.”

She was so excited she felt like she could run ten miles in a burst. Her face still felt all warm and red, and she was sure her ears had permanently turned pink. She would’ve been embarrassed had she not been so comfortable.

Clarke wasn’t new. She’d known Clarke. In a way. Maybe not how she was going to, maybe not in a romantic sense, but she did know her; she wasn’t some stranger she’d gone on a date with.

Clarke was Clarke.

And Lexa found that she was incredibly comfortable around Clarke.

When she walked into her bedroom, she found Clarke standing by the door, looking at her phone.

“I’m just texting my mom,” Clarke told her, smiling a little. “Good night, that sort of stuff.”

“That’s nice.”

“She’s at work.”

“And I guess you haven’t told her you’re not sleeping at home?”

“Are you kidding? She’d freak,” Clarke laughed, pausing a little when she noticed Lexa looked more concerned than amused.

“She’s not…” Lexa paused. “Against it, is she?”

Clarke frowned, not understanding what Lexa meant. “What?”

“She’s not homophobic or anything?” Lexa asked.

“God, no,” Clarke laughed. “Definitely not.”

“And she knows?”

“That I’m bi? Yeah.”

There was a slight ‘oh’ moment visible on Lexa’s face, and Clarke laughed again as she gave her cheek a light kiss. “Yeah, I’m bi. Did you think I was gay?”

“I- I don’t know,” Lexa shrugged, blushing a little. “I don’t think I really thought you were anything.”

“Anything?”

“I just mean I didn’t, like, assign a label to you,” Lexa hurriedly explained. “Just…not straight?”

“That works.”

Lexa noticed Clarke was chewing her lip, seemingly wanting to ask a question.

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Clarke said, shaking her head.

“No, you want to ask something, I can tell.”

“It’s dumb.”

“Let me decide that.”

Clarke sighed, feigning annoyance. “So you don’t have any- I don’t know, any issues with it?”

“With what?”

“Me being bi?”

“I don’t know, should I?” Lexa asked.

“Some people do,” Clarke muttered. “It’s dumb to even ask, but I’d rather know now than find out four months into it that you’re a biphobe-“

“No, it’s fine, I know what you mean. And for the record, no. No problems here.”

Lexa smiled a little, and then added: “I’ll punch one for you, though. A biphobe, I mean.”

Clarke just chuckled.

There was a moment of awkwardness when they realized they should be getting to bed. Clarke stood by it, seemingly unsure of what to do, whether to get in or to wait for Lexa – and so Lexa took initiative. She got on the bed, and reached for Clarke’s hand, pulling her down with her.

“This is a bit weird, isn’t it?” she asked, still smiling.

She was pretty sure she hadn’t stopped smiling since that morning.

“Yeah,” Clarke agreed, settling to lay on her back on the left side of the bed. “It’ll stop being weird, I hope.”

“It’s just new.”

“Hmm.”

They were laying about a foot apart, as if afraid to touch.

It was definitely not how Lexa wanted to sleep, not when she finally had Clarke in her bed. But before she could make a move towards Clarke, she felt a hand on her waist, and turned her head to find Clarke looking at her.

“I-“ Clarke frowned, as if looking for words. “I want to cuddle. There’s no non-weird way to say that.”

“That wasn’t so weird,” Lexa smiled, turning over and shuffling backwards so that Clarke could spoon her. When she felt her body envelop hers, a warmth exploded within her; when Clarke laid her hand on her waist, pulling her hips closer to her, it was as if Lexa saw stars for a split second – and when she felt a soft kiss on her shoulder, she couldn’t help the pleased sigh that left her lips.

Clarke already had her eyes closed. She was beyond comfortable, beyond happy, and couldn’t think of a better place to be; with Lexa in her arms, everything felt right. Her hand, resting on Lexa’s hip, was just grazing a sliver of skin exposed between her shorts and her shirt.

Her lips were just inches away from Lexa’s neck.

Lexa was the last to fall asleep. She felt Clarke’s body relax behind her, and, after some time, heard her breaths slow down. A few moments later, she heard a deep sigh, and felt her hand pull her even closer.

Had she looked at her, she would have seen the ghost of a smile on Clarke’s sleeping face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah ma babies   
> finally, am i right?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya cuties! ya girl is dying from a sinus infection but i got this up anyway, so enjoy!

Waking in the morning to find her face nestled in Clarke’s neck was like waking up to find herself still in a dream. Somehow, over the course of the night, she had managed to turn over and basically end up laying half on top of Clarke, with one arm tightly wrapped around her waist, her other hand resting on Clarke’s arm.

She could feel Clarke’s breaths, their gentle rise and fall, and sighed happily as she shifted just a little. She thought she’d have just five more minutes of bliss.

But, right before she closed her eyes, she saw that it was almost midday. It wasn’t really even morning anymore.

Her annoyance at the thought of having to get up was wiped away when she realized she could wake Clarke up. Softly, gently, exactly how she may have daydreamed of doing a few times too many.

That woke her right up, and she raised herself up a little, just so she could see Clarke’s sleeping face.

Instead of that, though, she was met by very sleepy-looking blue eyes, looking mildly confused.

“What?”

“Morning,” Lexa smiled, moving up to kiss Clarke. “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you too,” Clarke yawned. “Why are you up so early?”

“I don’t know,” Lexa replied, resting her head back down. “Couldn’t sleep anymore.”

“Did you sleep well?”

Lexa let out a pleased sigh. “God, yes.”

Clarke’s fingertips on her neck made her spine tingle in the best of ways.

“That’s good,” Clarke said, yawning again.

And so they got ready for the day. Clarke borrowed a fresh shirt from Lexa, and Lexa tried her best to comb her hair into a neat ponytail despite it being mussed into a thousand tangles after all the making out the night before.

Spending so much time on her back, being kissed, tended to turn her hair into a messy mass of tangles.

Lexa drove Clarke home.

Clarke promised she’d take Lexa out for a coffee sometime soon, after she and her mom had completed the obligatory family visits.

Lexa was maybe a little bit sad to realize she wouldn’t see Clarke for a few days.

“New Years? Do you have any plans for that?” she asked, when Clarke was already about to get out of the car.

“You know I don’t,” Clarke said, rolling her eyes.

“Well, if you want, you could,” Lexa replied with a shining smile. “With me. Plans.”

“What sorts of plans?”

“Fireworks, kissing-“

“I’m in.”

“Wow, didn’t have to persuade you at all, huh?”

Clarke just laughed and reached for the door.

“You’re not going to leave without a kiss goodbye, are you?”

Lexa really didn’t mean to say it, but it just slipped out.

Her brief moment of embarrassment was wiped away when Clarke smiled, leaned over for a kiss, and then got out of the car.

She didn’t leave till she saw the light in Clarke’s bedroom turn on.

 

* * *

 

At midday, just an hour or two after she’d left Clarke, Lexa met up with her friends for lunch.

“Hello,” she greeted them, in a voice almost sing-songy in tone – something so uncharacteristic of her that both Costia _and_ Octavia immediately perked up.

“What is up”? Octavia asked, looking completely bewildered. “Why do you- what’s going on?”

“Are you _drunk?_ ” Costia asked in a low voice.

“Can I get in on this?” Octavia chimed.

“I’m not _drunk_ ,” Lexa sighed, leaning back. “I’m fine. I’m just having a good day.”

“You look like it…but why? Did something happen?”

 _“_ Don’t you ever just wake up and feel good?” Lexa shrugged.

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure I don’t look like you do right now when I wake up feeling good. You look like you just won the lottery.”

_I definitely just did._

Thankfully, the interrogation was put on pause when more of their friends showed up, and, moments after that, so did the food.

She wasn't in the mood to talk about Clarke. It felt like there was too much to explain now. Eventually, she would - but first, she wanted to safely see where things went with Clarke.

For the remainder of the day, Lexa was consistently bugged by her friends about her mood. She had to dodge questions, make up excuses, and was only free from them once she got home – but even then, she wasn’t really free from questions.

Anya was home, waiting for her, sitting on the couch with a smirk on her face.

“She stayed the night.”

“How did you-“ Lexa began, dropping her bag on the floor.

“I have my ways,” Anya smirked. “So that’s a yes.”

“We didn’t…” Lexa faltered. “We didn’t do it.”

“Have sex? God, you’re a child.”

“I didn’t want to rush-“

“No, I was referring to you calling sex ‘doing it’. I wasn’t criticizing your lack of sex,” Anya cut in. “Sit.”

“Don’t boss me around,” Lexa frowned.

But she sat down anyway.

“So her name is Clarke.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re not telling anyone.”

“Again, how do you know?”

“I have my ways-“

Lexa sighed and grabbed a pillow. When she noticed a blonde hair on it, she couldn’t even stop the grin from spreading to her lips.

Anya promptly grabbed the pillow from her hands and smacked her lightly with it before handing it back to her with a gentle ‘you idiot’.

“You seem a little head over heels for her,” she said after a while.

“I might be.”

“And…” Anya sighed. “If you want to talk about her, I’m here.”

“You’ll make fun of me.”

“I never said I wouldn’t. But you clearly don’t want to talk about her to your friends and you look like you’re going to explode, so…shoot. If you want.”

And then Lexa just…let it out. She gushed about Clarke, letting Anya get a few quips in here and there, but for the most part she just…talked. Got all the thoughts she had about Clarke off her chest, and felt so incredibly validated to have someone to tell them to.

It was such an exciting thing, this thing going on with Clarke, and she couldn’t keep it all bottled up.

She talked about how pretty Clarke was.

Anya told her she was an idiot.

She gushed about Clarke’s hair and her pretty hands and her adorable clothes, she rambled for a long while about how incredibly pretty her lips were-

And Anya, once again, gently called her an idiot.

She talked about how smart and understanding and _refreshing_ Clarke’s mind was.

Anya told her she was a hopeless lovestruck idiot.

She was only teasing, Lexa knew that – she could see the satisfied smile on her sister’s face. She was happy for her, she could tell, and it made her so happy that she could share her happiness and have at least _one_ person in on what was going on in her life at that moment.

“And why aren’t you telling your friends?”

Lexa shrugged and looked at the pillow in her lap.

“They wouldn’t understand.”

“Why not?”

“I-“ Lexa sighed. “I’m not sure if I want to be friends with them, anymore. Or as much, anyway. I want…I want something more like Clarke. Calm, relaxed. Less parties. More chill.”

Anya nodded. “Now that’s starting to sound more like _you_.”

“I know you’ve had your opinion about this for years-“

“Lex, ever since _high school_ I’ve been telling you that you need to slow down, that this high-rolling over-achieving preppy girl isn’t entirely who I think you are- but did you listen? No.”

“You’re my sister. Of course I don’t listen.”

Anya rolled her eyes and threw a pillow at her. “But I’m glad you’re maybe reconsidering that. I hate seeing you so exhausted.”

“I hate being exhausted.”

“You do know you can have a balance, right? It isn’t an all-or-nothing situation?”

Lexa sighed. “Sometimes it feels like it.”

“You can have your friends but some more calm, too. Not every party is one you _must_ go to.”

Another sigh. “You make it sound so easy.”

Anya smiled, gently, with no hint of a taunt anywhere on her face. “You’ll figure it out. You’re young.”

“You’re barely four years older than me.”

“So?”

Lexa huffed and leaned back on the couch, crossing her arms across her chest. “Do you have any plans for dinner?”

“Can’t you smell it?”

“Smell what?”

“Food? In the slow cooker? I made orange chicken. With rice and everything.”

“Oh, that’s what that stink is-“

“Rude.”

“I’m joking.”

“I know.”

 

* * *

 

The last days of December rolled around, slowly as they possibly could – Lexa was, in all seriousness, in agony having to wait. Clarke was busy, only barely able to text, driving from one aunt to another, visiting grandmas and distant cousins and the like. Lexa, surprisingly enough, wasn’t busy – and so, her torment was only worse.

She was so excited about Clarke, and yet, Clarke wasn’t near. She just wanted her there.

She wanted more kissing, she wanted more talking.

It was only natural for her to be so excited.

And really, it was only a few days.

“You’re acting like a cat on hot coals,” Anya commented the day before New Years. “She’ll be here _tomorrow.”_

“A cat on hot coals? That’s not a thing,” Lexa frowned. “And shut up.”

“You’re so insufferably cute.”

Lexa went to the living room to get her book, and of course it was at that moment that her phone buzzed.

“Oh, hey, it’s your girlfriend,” Anya called out, causing Lexa to come running back into the kitchen.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Lexa muttered, grabbing her phone and checking the message.

**(Clarke, 7:29 p.m.)**

_I'm so bored._

_I wish I was with you instead._

She didn’t even notice she’d smiled when she read the message, not till Anya told her.

“She may not be your girlfriend,” she smirked, turning back to the dishes she was washing, “But I don’t think she's too far off.”

“Huh?”

“God, you weren’t even listening-“

“What? What’d you say-?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what?”

Anya shrugged. “She’s basically your girlfriend at this point, don’t lie.”

“It’s been two dates. She’s _not_ my girlfriend.”

“But you want her to be?”

Lexa glared at Anya. “You’re way too involved in _my_ love life.”

“Am not,” Anya said lightly, handing her a pot to dry. “I’m just making conversation.”

Lexa’s phone buzzed again in her pocket, and Anya let out a laugh when she snatched the dish towel from Lexa’s hand. “Go, I’ll finish up here. You go chat with your girl.”

“She’s not-“

“Your girl, yes, yes,” Anya said, rolling her eyes. “Just go.”

Lexa was glad to leave. Nothing really excited her more than texting Clarke.

Clarke could’ve said anything, and it would’ve been interesting.

They ended up texting till Lexa was passing out, almost dropping her phone on her face every two seconds.

**(Clarke, 11:54 p.m.)**

_Are you sleepy?_

**(Lexa, 11:55 p.m.)**

_A little._

**(Clarke, 11:55 p.m.)**

_You should sleep then._

**(Lexa, 11:55 p.m.)**

_In a minute._

**(Clarke, 11:56 p.m.)**

_That’s what you said an hour ago._

_Is it that hard to stop talking to me?_

**(Lexa, 11:57 p.m.)**

_Honestly?_

_Yes._

**(Clarke, 11:58 p.m.)**

_I think you should sleep._

_I need to, too._

**(Lexa, 11:59 p.m.)**

_Goodnight._

It felt empty to say just ‘goodnight’, but she couldn’t really add ‘babe’ at the end of it, either.

Everything was just a little bit too new for that.

**(Clarke, 11:59 p.m.)**

_Goodnight._

Clarke may have lied a little when she’d said she needed to sleep as well. In truth, she knew she wouldn’t sleep for another few hours.

She’d been able to tell Lexa was getting sleepy. Her replies had been slower, and she’d stopped making sense at times. Clarke had found it insufferably cute.

Though it was late, she wasn’t staying up because she couldn’t sleep; there were no thoughts haunting her that night. None at all. She was just cozy, comfy, and wanted to get some drawing done.

Just some time to herself, really.

So what if maybe she ended up finishing up some older sketches of Lexa, spending a little bit too much time finessing and poring over details that really didn’t matter. Fixing the shading, making sure her lips or fingers looked just so; it was relaxing, really.

 

The grandfather clock ticked away, the sound echoing in the quiet darkness of her grandmother's house.

A few days, and she'd get to see Lexa again.

 

* * *

 

Clarke walked to Lexa’s place to pick her up for their New Years’ date.

Their second date, or third, if you were to count the first one that was a date in all but name.

She had a little bottle of sparkling wine in her bag, and two plastic glasses – she’d just bought them on a whim, thinking it’d be fun to have a little drink when the fireworks were going off.

It was a cold night, too. A clear sky, dark blue and already filled with sparkling fireworks on occasion. The streets filled with people heading to parties or to the parks. Bangs and pops echoing along the walls.

Lexa was wearing the finger-gloves Clarke had gotten her when she came downstairs to meet her.

Clarke noticed, and smiled. “You like them, huh?”

Lexa nodded. “They go with my outfit.”

She looked…cute. Beyond cute, really.

A red skirt, thick warm tights, light grey in color, all covered by a thick wool coat, a darker red in color, one which Lexa quickly zipped up when she realized how cold it was outside.

“Good thing I grabbed a scarf and a hat.”

Clarke was wearing dark jeans and her nicest wool sweater. It was almost as neat as what Lexa had on, but, in her mind, Lexa had way outdone her.

Lexa didn’t see it that way. She hadn’t tried to outdo Clarke, nor did she think she had; she’d just worn her knitted skirt ‘cause it was warm and comfortable.

Not to mention her best boots to walk in were such which she couldn’t wear jeans with, and her ankle being still hurt, she’d planned her outfit around which shoes she’d be most comfortable wearing.

Of course it didn’t hurt that she knew she looked cute, too.

There was no hesitation when she skipped the last step down and lightly kissed Clarke on the lips.

Or there may have been, but she pretended there wasn’t.

She was desperately trying to be smooth, and failing at it completely.

“You ready to go?”

Clarke smiled, barely able to contain the giggle she’d almost let out when Lexa had kissed her.

It felt so happy and chaste and good, the kiss, and what it meant to Clarke – comfort and a chance at romance again – was beyond anything she could’ve imagined.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The park they were headed to was just two bus stops down from Lexa’s place. It was the biggest park in the city, with a big hill overlooking the downtown area. It was also completely packed with people.

Not loud as it would have been in a club, it was still noisy. How could it not have been, when there were hundreds of people gathered there. Some were walking around, others were huddled near each other and staring at the sky for a glimpse at more fireworks.

Lexa had insisted that she’d be good to walk.

“She told me to rest it up for a week and then take it easy,” she insisted. “I’m taking it easy. Slow steps.”

And so they walked slowly.

At some point, Clarke slipped her hand into Lexa’s.

“Just so I don’t lose you in the crowd,” she shrugged when Lexa glanced at her.

“Of course, just because of that,” Lexa smiled.

She knew full well that was just an excuse.

Not that she minded; her hands were cold, and Clarke’s were warm. And it felt good, holding Clarke’s hand gave her butterflies like she’d never had before; just that one simple touch was enough to have Lexa’s whole body tingling with excitement.

They found a bench further away from the main crowd, and decided to settle down there. It may not have had the best view, but the best place to see the fireowrks was already absolutely packed, and neither one of them was really much into the idea of standing around in a loud, packed crowed.

Lexa surprised Clarke by pulling out a blanket from her backpack. Clarke responded by whipping out the bottle of sparkling wine and two glasses, causing Lexa to laugh.

“We both came prepared, huh,” she smiled, tossing the blanket over the bench so they could sit without getting cold and wet.

“You prepared smartly,” Clarke commented. “I just prepared for a little fun.”

“I always have fun when I’m with you.”

That caused Clarke’s mouth to fall slightly ajar as she tried to think of a response while her heart was having a mild stroke.

In the end, she ended up just blushing and waving it off. “Shut up.”

Lexa was smiling, too.

There was a lot of smiling that night.

At some point, Lexa leaned her head on Clarke’s shoulder and pulled her feet up onto the bench. Clarke’s arm wrapped around her, pulled her a little closer; it was intimate, and it was dark enough that it didn’t feel too public. People passed them in the darkness of the park, the only light being from the occasional lamps lining the paths and the fireworks overhead. Nobody stopped to look, nobody seemed to notice.

They watched the people, they watched the fireworks.

And there was plenty of kissing, too.

“Your nose is cold,” Clarke commented, mid-kiss, before going back for another. “Icy cold.”

“It’s maybe a little cold,” Lexa admitted. “But your cheeks are at least as cold.”

“I don’t feel cold, though.”

“Me neither.”

She had the blanket folded over her legs, as did Clarke. Warm and wrapped up, they waited for midnight to come.

There were other people around them who had thought of the same thing. Couples and groups of friends, families, all toasting and having a blast – some more drunk than others. Children running around, excited to be up way past their bedtime.

As midnight came around, it got louder. The fireworks intensified, the people got noisier – with just a few minutes to the new year, Lexa could barely hear a word of what Clarke was saying.

“What?”

Clarke laughed. “Your watch is off by like five minutes, they’re counting down already!”

“What!?”

And then she heard it. Collectively around them, everyone was counting down.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1…Happy New Year!”

Lexa didn’t hear much, the sound of the fireworks going off was deafening – but she did feel Clarke’s lips engulf her own, and quickly forgot about anything else.

It was a kiss just shy of too long for a public place, with a hint of tongue and a taste that made Lexa feel drunk.

“Happy New Year,” Clarke said quietly, her lips still close to Lexa’s.

“Happy New Year.”

Clarke couldn’t really hear Lexa, she barely managed to breathe out the words; but she read her lips, and, before Lexa could add anything else, kissed her again.

“How about some wine?”

* * *

Soon after midnight, the park was suddenly...quieter. Some of those who had come only for the midnight fireworks were headed home; others were headed to other parties, disappearing into the night in their respective directions. Lexa and Clarke were trying to make their way toward a street, any street, away from all the people, to find a bus stop and get home.

  
Lexa had her hand in Clarke's, this time genuinely so she wouldn’t lose her in the crowd. There were so many people and it was so dark that if they got separated, it would have been an arduous task to be reunited.  
  
She didn’t notice Clarke had frozen in her steps until her hand slipped out of hers. Whirling around in confusion, she at first didn't see Clarke, due to a large man walking right past her at that moment; but then, she heard a voice, calling out over the crowd:  
  
"Look, guys, it's Clarke fucking Griffin!"  
  
Lexa heard laughter, and not kind laughter at that. Mean, cruel laughter, mocking in tone. And she saw Clarke disappearing into the crowd, as if she were running away.  
  
She saw the guy who had spoken, too.  
  
He was still talking, just a few feet from her.  
"Biggest slut in town, I tell you," the boy slurred to the girl next to him. "Just a cheating...fucking whore, a total bi-"  
  
He didn't get to finish his sentence.

Lexa may have been a little tipsy on the wine, and a little tired. And, most of all, quickly angry – Clarke was gone, and it was because of this… _guy._

Lexa didn't let him defile Clarke's name any more. Before she could even really realize, she had punched him, straight across his face, so hard he fell to the ground with a surprised cry.

"What the fuck-" he tried to scramble up, but Lexa shoved him down. His friends stood a ways off, looking confused, and offended, but none dared approach her.  
  
"Don't you speak of Clarke, ever again," Lexa snarled, leaning over him. "Or I'll make you pay."  
  
His nose was bleeding profusely. Her hand hurt where it had hit him.

“Are we clear?”

The boy nodded, clearly terrified. Lexa just smirked and walked away, coolly, despite almost trembling from the sudden rush of adrenaline that was running through her veins. No one followed her, no one tried to stop her.  
  
"She broke my fucking nose!" came an angry cry from behind her as she hurried into the direction she’d seen Clarke disappear. But she didn't care, she didn't even stop - after a few steps, she began jogging, pushing people out of her way, worried she had missed Clarke altogether.  
  
The boy's words confused her, chiefly because she was convinced they were a lie - they had to be.  
  
She burst out of the crowd onto a side path, and caught sight of something way down the hill - blonde hair, she was sure of it.

Clarke.  
  
Her ankle hurt a little as she jogged down the hill.

Or a lot. She really shouldn’t have been running. Or half-jogging, half-walking.

But she had to catch up to Clarke.  
  
"Clarke, wait!"  
  
Clarke didn't hear Lexa. She didn't even know Lexa was running after her till she felt her hand grab her arm, pulling her to a stop.

"Clarke," Lexa panted, "Don't do that. Don't just run off."

"I-" Clarke sighed. "I'm sorry. I just....I panicked."

"Who was that?"

"Finn. My ex."

Lexa frowned when she saw tears in Clarke's eyes. " _The_ ex?"

She hadn't explained nearly enough about the ex, other than that things hadn't ended well. At all. But Clarke had switched schools in the aftermath; it had to have been something very serious.

"Come," Lexa said gently, taking Clarke's hand. "Let's go to my place. We can talk then if you want. But you don’t have to-"

"I do," came Clarke’s reply, in a small voice. “I…I think I have to explain.”

“But not here,” Lexa insisted. “It’s cold. Come on.”

By some miraculous feat, the bus came to the stop just when they walked up to it. There was just room for two more, and so they hopped on.

Ten minutes later, they were already climbing up the stairs to Lexa’s apartment.

Lexa was taking a little longer. Her ankle didn’t feel too good.

“You okay?” Clarke asked, eyeing Lexa carefully.

“I’m fine,” Lexa assured her. “Just ran when I shouldn’t have-“

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I didn’t want you disappearing,” Lexa told her, reaching into her pocket to retrieve her keys.

Clarke didn’t respond.

She didn’t feel too good.

It had been such a fun night, and then it had been ruined. By Finn. She was so frustrated, so hurt, that she was sure she'd cry.

“You want hot chocolate?”

It was a soft, gentle gesture, so simple yet so kind. Clarke nodded, smiled a little, but said nothing.

“You can sit in the living room, I’ll bring it over when I’m done.”

Lexa was giving Clarke space, a moment to clear and gather her thoughts; she wasn’t even really thinking much of it, she was just doing what felt natural.

Also, she was definitely cold. And hot chocolate usually helped with that.

She put extra marshmallows in Clarke’s mug. She figured she needed it.

“This one’s my Christmas special,” she told Clarke when she handed her the mug. “Candy cane cocoa.”

There was a candy cane sticking out from the mug, and crushed peppermint candies sprinkled on top the half-melted marshmallows.

For a moment or three, they sat there in silence.

“I’m sorry.”

That was the first thing Clarke said.

“Why are you sorry?” Lexa asked, confused.

“Tonight was supposed to be fun, and- yeah.“

“It _was_ fun. And it can be,” Lexa said gently, leaning back and looking at Clarke. “The night’s not over yet.”

“God, I just…” Clarke sighed. “I hate him.”

Lexa didn’t say anything. She sat there, legs resting atop the coffee table, and waited.

“I dated him for, I don’t know, nine months?” Clarke began. “And he…he was okay. He was better at first, but then my dad got sick and he…I guess I wasn’t too interesting. He got distant.”

It was clear the topic was tough for Clarke, and Lexa reached out to grab her hand.

“What did he do?”

Her voice was quiet, tentative – though she was bursting to know, she didn’t want to push Clarke.

“It wasn’t just _one_ thing…”

A moment and a sip of cocoa later, she continued.

“He- well, I guess it started with a pregnancy scare. I- it was maybe three weeks from my dad’s funeral, we’d done it one night and the condom had split, and I was paranoid even after I’d taken the morning after pill…and then my period was late. And the pregnancy test came back positive-“

Lexa tried her best to not look bothered at the idea of Clarke with this Finn, but she was. Thankfully, Clarke hadn’t noticed her scrunch up her nose in mild disgust. She didn't like the sadness and distressed tone in Clarke's voice; even now, she was hurt over what had happened.

“So I went to the doctor, I- I wanted to be sure. But I tried calling him, and he didn’t answer, so on my way back from the doctor I went over…I had a key. And I- I caught him with someone else. With a friend of mine, Niylah…”

“Oh, no-“

“So I left. I didn’t say anything about the pregnancy, I just went to another friend’s place. I thought I could trust her, so I told her about everything, and she told me to call him and tell him it was over.”

“And it was?”

“I…yeah. But a few days later, she told him about the pregnancy. She was his friend too, more his than mine I guess. I wasn’t pregnant, I found that out a few days after I broke up with him, but she somehow got the wrong idea and told him I still was pregnant, and then he came to my place practically screaming that I was a lying cheating b-“

Clarke sighed, and wiped away a tear. “Yeah.”

Lexa pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her. “He’s a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah, but-“

“Oh no, is there more?”

Clarke nodded. “I told him I wasn’t pregnant, and he- he thought I got rid of it. Nothing I said would sway him, he was convinced I’d aborted his baby, and he just got _so_ mad…I guess he doesn’t support it, or whatever...”

Lexa, at this point, was already seething mad.

“And then he panicked, of course. He’d cheated on me, I’d dumped him, and he was the golden boy. He couldn’t have his reputation ruined, so instead he ruined mine…” Clarke sighed again. “I didn’t talk to anyone for a week. I felt like shit, and it was only worse when I realized he’d had that week to basically ruin everyone’s idea of me. Made them think I was a slut who had aborted his baby, that I’d cheated, not him…”

“He…” Lexa shook her head. “God, am I glad I punched him-“

Clarke frowned. “What?”

“I punched him.”

“You _what!?_ ”

Lexa nodded, feeling very satisfied with herself. In all honesty, she felt she should have hurt him way more than she had done.

“He- he called you a slut and a, well- that’s not the point. He said those things and I- I punched him. Right in the nose. Probably broke it.”

Clarke’s eyes were wide. “You…why?”

“He called you names. Horrible names.”

“But you didn’t know if they were lies-“

“Yes, I did,” Lexa interrupted. “I- I knew they weren’t true.”

“How?”

“I know you, Clarke,” Lexa told her, looking into her eyes. “Maybe not fully, but I damn well know you’re not a slut, or a cheating whore, or a bitch – that’s not you.”

“So you punched him.”

“I’m not going to let anybody talk about you like that.”

And then, Lexa caught the hint of a smile on Clarke’s lips.

There may have been tears just about to fall from her eyes, but she smiled nevertheless.

“You’re too nice.”

Lexa shook her head. “I’m just nice enough. It’s what you deserve.”

“God, stop,” Clarke sighed, still smiling. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“Why?”

“You’re being so nice.”

“I’m not going to stop being nice to you, Clarke. Ridiculous of you to even ask me to stop that.”

Clarke, knowing full well she was just a few words and a kind smile away from crying, turned to lean against Lexa in a way that she wasn’t facing her. She sipped from her cocoa again, and relaxed; though she may have felt a little hollow and very small in that moment, she already felt better.

It felt better now that Lexa knew about Finn.

She didn’t feel shattered, not really.

She’d felt like that before, but not so much anymore. Now, she was just a little afraid to reach out, and even more afraid to trust again; but Lexa, she made it easy to imagine trusting her.

She already trusted her, though not fully. But she felt she was on her way towards it, and that was good enough.

“I guess Finn and your friends, them turning against you…must’ve fucked you up, huh?”

Lexa was toying with Clarke’s hair, gently, in a way that felt just perfect.

“Yeah.”

“And that’s why you switched schools?”

“I…I couldn’t keep showing up to classes where everyone looked at me and just saw a slut. Finn, he- he’s the golden boy. No one would ever think he did anything wrong.”

“And that’s why you’re afraid of making new friends?”

Clarke nodded. “Not afraid. I just…I’m not sure how.”

“You’ll get there,” Lexa assured her. “It’ll take time, I’m sure.”

Clarke nodded again. “Yeah, I know.”

“And you’ve got me now.”

“You’re not a friend, though,” Clarke said, before she managed to think twice about it.

“I’m not?”

Clarke rolled her eyes as she turned to look at Lexa. “You _know_ you’re not just a friend.”

“I do,” Lexa smiled. “I’m better.”

And then she leaned down and kissed Clarke. Sweetly, tenderly, trying her best to convey all the softness and tenderness she felt for Clarke in that one kiss.

“How about we watch some Christmas movies?” she suggested then, her hand still cupping Clarke’s face. “Something totally dumb and ridiculous. Let’s get drunk and forget about Finn.”

“That sounds perfect.”

They didn’t sleep till dawn. There were dumb, terrible movies, with barely any point – they made up an equally as dumb drinking game, where they drank whenever either one of them had to say ‘what is going on’. And so they ended up smashed, giggling and cuddling on the couch, comfortable and happy.

Finn was completely forgotten, at least on Clarke’s part.

Lexa may have pondered over it, once Clarke had fallen asleep with her head against her shoulder.

She wished Clarke hadn’t been put through that. She wished Clarke hadn’t been in pain, wished her pains could go away entirely; but she couldn’t fix the past.

In that moment, she decided she'd give Finn a piece of her mind, were she to ever see him again.

Though her knuckles hurt, she was beyond glad she’d punched him.

She wasn’t a violent person, really.

But she was glad she’d punched Clarke’s asshole ex.

Clarke was glad, too.

She wished she’d had the chance to punch him and break his nose. He made her angry. Before, the thought of him had made her sad – but, lately, the thought of him just made her angry. Hurt, too, to remember what he’d done; but the overall feeling she felt was anger.

She wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt her, but that was only a wish – she didn’t think he was worth finding or thinking about long enough to plan a way to get back at him.

It was also a relief that Lexa had, well, taken her side. She may have been a little worried that Lexa wouldn’t believe her, that Lexa would think she was a slut like everyone else had – but she hadn’t. In all honesty, Clarke felt a ridiculous to have thought, at any point, that Lexa wouldn’t side with her.

But no one had, not with that matter.

Not before Lexa.

“Thank you,” Clarke mumbled, half-asleep as she nuzzled her face into Lexa’s neck and let out a happy sigh. “Just…thank you.”

Lexa was almost falling asleep herself, but she heard Clarke’s words nevertheless.

“Anytime,” she yawned. “For you…anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't think i've ever written finn as not an asshole...but he is one. so yeah.
> 
> cute, though, right? lots of cuddling.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still sick myself so updating is definitely not the first thing on my mind...next week may happen, or it may not. we'll see.  
> but here's this one! and it's cute as can be

 “So, how was Christmas?”

That was the question Lexa found herself answering, over and over again, during the first days of school. Friends, half-friends, professors, it was just friendly conversation.

Each time, she shrugged, smiled, and said it had been wonderful.

If someone asked her what she’d done and where she’d gone, she was mostly truthful.

She just may have left out the name of who she’d spent her time with and who had made her Christmas break so wonderful.

It wasn’t so much a secret anymore, really. Lexa wasn’t hiding Clarke, though she had not yet openly gone up to her and kissed her on campus because was unsure whether Clarke wanted attention at school– but there were stolen looks, passing smiles in hallways, and sneaky breaks in the bathroom. And the occasional sitting together in class, when the front rows were oh-so conveniently full and Lexa ‘settled’ on sitting next to Clarke.

Not that there was any settling involved, really. She was aching to sit next to Clarke, but knew she shouldn’t do so until she explained the situation to her friends – and that she wasn’t going to do until she knew what she and Clarke really were.

“Anything happen while we were gone?”

Lexa looked at her friends and smiled. “This and that. Nothing specific.”

“Really?” Octavia asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I heard a rumor last night that _something_ happened on New Years’ Eve.”

Lexa almost paled. “And what’d that rumor say?”

“That you got in a fight.”

“I-“ Lexa let out a laugh. “Okay, maybe.”

“Finn Collins from TDCU? ‘Cause I met him a few days ago at a party, overheard him just ranting on about how _you_ broke his nose on New Years…” Octavia trailed off, hoping for an explanation.

“I- he was being an ass.”

“Didn’t seem like an ass, really,” Octavia shrugged. “Kind of a nice boy.”

“Aren’t you dating Lincoln?” Costia interjected.

“What? I can’t even _appreciate_ other guys?”

“Not Finn Collins,” Raven chimed in. “Lexa’s right, he’s an ass.”

Lexa was surprised to find Raven knew him, so much so that her astonishment was very obvious to Raven.

Raven just smirked at her in response. “I would’ve broken his nose too.”

“But _why_? What did he do?”

Lexa shrugged. “I don’t know, I was drunk, it was dark, he said some rude things about some girl and I just- punched him a little.”

“You broke his nose.”

“I would’ve broken a lot more if I’d been serious,” Lexa laughed. “He’s not coming back at me about it, is he?”

“No, he- I don’t think so.”

“No assault charges that I can expect to hear of?”

Octavia frowned. “I saw him once, that’s it. How should I know?”

“Still,” Costia began, looking pointedly at Lexa. “You’re not violent. What on _earth_ got you to punch him?”

Lexa shrugged, once again. “It was New Years! Things happen-“

"But you're the good girl! You don't go around punching people!" Costia insisted.

"Well, now, hold on...Lexa is viciously protective," Octavia pointed out. "Even over strangers. Remember that fight she got in freshman year because some guy grabbed a girl's ass?"

Costia nodded. "That's true."

For a brief moment, Lexa thought the matter was finished. But then Costia turned back to her, and asked:

“Who were you with, anyway?”

“A- a date.”

She may have hesitated, if only a little, before telling the truth.

“What’s her name?” Octavia asked, grinning a little. “How have we not heard of her before?”

“I’ll tell you if it gets serious, okay?”

“So there’ll be another date, then?” Costia piped in.

Lexa definitely noticed the slightest hint of disappointment in her voice, but only a hint – she quickly convinced herself she’d imagined it. She just shrugged, cradled her mug in her hands, and smirked.

“Most definitely.”

 

* * *

 

The next week, on Thursday, Lexa somehow got to art history before Clarke did.

Clarke got in with just barely minutes to spare, and had only just gotten her notebook out when the professor walked in. Lexa was lounging up front, chatting with her friends, her hair let down all messy and yet unbelievably cute.

The little braid Clarke had made a few nights earlier was still there. She couldn’t help but notice Lexa fiddling with it, all through class – and whenever she did, she sneaked a glance behind her, at Clarke.

The fourth time she did it, Clarke realized what had seemed off about Lexa’s appearance.

Lexa was wearing her hoodie.

When Clarke realized that Lexa had the hoodie she’d been looking for, for a few days at that, she was briefly annoyed – but then, as soon as that emotion came, it was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of warmth and comfort.

She looked adorable. And the fact that she’d decided to wear her hoodie, that was the best of all. It felt…warm, seeing Lexa in her hoodie.

Nice.

And oh-so overwhelmingly cute.

The first moment she could, Clarke sent Lexa a text. She just had to see her.

**(Clarke, 2:47 p.m.)**

_3 rd floor bathroom after class?_

She saw Lexa jump a little when she received the text, and smiled back at her when she turned a little to look at her.

**(Lexa, 2:48 p.m.)**

_Sure._

* * *

The third floor bathroom was almost always empty. That was mostly because the third floor was for administration, and few students had classes anywhere nearby – not to mention there were two bathrooms on the floor. The smaller one was very rarely even noticed.

It had only one toilet, and a lock on the door.

It really was perfect. Clarke had found it first, and then realized it was a quiet place to go when she needed a moment to herself.

And with Lexa? Well, she’d quickly realized that the bathroom would make a perfect makeout spot.

Not that they were making out _that_ much.  It had only been once.

So far, anyway.

Lexa came in just barely moments after Clarke had entered, grinning a little as she locked the door.

“Really couldn’t wait any longer, huh?”

Clarke smirked and pulled her closer, tugging on the strings of her hoodie. “You’re wearing my hoodie.”

Lexa kissed her before answering. “Yeah, I am.”

There was a moment of hesitation before she continued. “That’s okay, right? It’s not weird or anything?”

Clarke smiled and shook her head. “No, I- it looks good on you. I like it.”

She may have loved it, really. Lexa could’ve had any hoodie of hers had she just asked.

“It was just so much colder this morning, and you'd left it at my place…” Lexa shrugged, her voice trailing off as she tucked a strand of hair behind Clarke’s ear. “It smells nice. Like you.”

Clarke let out a sigh, a happy one – and Lexa laughed.

“I know that’s the cheesiest thing I’ve said, but you’re just so cute and-“

“Lexa?”

“Hm?”

“You’re talking a little bit too much.”

“Wha- oh…” Lexa began, only to be cut off when Clarke pulled her closer and kissed her. She didn’t mind being cut off. Kissing was really way better than anything she may have had to say.

Which she didn’t, not really; had Clarke let her go on, she would’ve probably said many things she would’ve later regretted blurting out. Clarke had that effect on her, she made her just a little bit nervous, enough to get her rambling.

She was confused when Clarke pulled away mid-kiss.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” Lexa asked, frowning a little.

“Your face feels hot.”

That confused Lexa more. “What do you mean?”

Clarke’s hand came up to her forehead. “You sure you feel fine?”

“I mean, maybe a little stuffy-“ Lexa shrugged. “And sleepy. And cold.”

“You think you might maybe be sick?”

Clarke was smiling so soft, her brows furrowed just a little because she was worried – she hadn’t noticed Lexa’s cheeks being so pink till she got this close to her, and she really did feel like she was burning up.

Not to mention it really wasn’t that cold, it had actually been warmer than the past few days.

“I don’t have time to be sick,” Lexa groaned. “I have Costia’s birthday coming up and assignments and-“

“Lexa.”

“What?”

“If you’re sick, you have time to be sick. I’m sure Costia will understand, and your professors _love_ you- you’ll get an extension if you need one,” Clarke told her. “Just go to the nurse. Maybe you don’t even have a fever.”

“Come with me?”

Clarke gave her an apologetic look. “I wish, but I’m going with Raven, I have that group…”

“Oh, yeah, that-“ Lexa shook her head. “Of course you’ll go to that.”

“But I’ll text you? And I’ll come over tomorrow. Promise.”

She leaned in for a kiss, but Lexa turned her face away.

“If I am sick,” she explained, pushing Clarke back a little, “I don’t want to get you sick too.”

“Lexa, your tongue was in my mouth a minute ago.”

“I know! I’ve done enough damage,” Lexa insisted. “I’m sure I’m not that sick.”

“But you’ll go get checked out?”

“I will, I will-“

“Good.”

“Call me later, maybe?”

“My mom’s home tonight, so I can’t if she's asleep - wouldn't want to wake her. So I can't make any promises.”

“Gotcha. But you better text.”

“As if I wouldn’t,” Clarke smiled. “I gotta go…you’ll be okay?”

“I’m not going to die, Clarke!” Lexa laughed, ushering her towards the door. “I will, though, if you don’t come over tomorrow. I’d miss you too much.”

“I promise I will. I'd miss you too.”

“Stay the night, maybe?”

“No maybe’s. I will.”

 

* * *

 

“So, how are things with your girl?”

Clarke raised an eyebrow at Raven. “What?”

Raven put the last chairs away before turning back around and looking at Clarke pointedly. “Lexa? The girl who wore _your_ hoodie today to school?”

“How on earth did you know that was my hoodie?”

“Aha! So it was yours,” Raven grinned. “Thought so, anyway. It’s your favorite, you wear it like every week.”

Clarke almost blushed. She hadn’t thought anyone was really paying attention to what she was wearing. 

“You- do you know?” she asked, frowning a little. “About me and-“

Raven smiled a little. “Well, I know you’ve got a massive, earth-shattering crush on Lexa.”

“How?”

“I have my ways. And maybe I’ve noticed you looking at her. And her looking at you. I can spot heart-aching pining from a mile away,” Raven shrugged. “Chill, Griffin, and spill the beans.”

And Clarke did.

“We- we’ve been on a few dates. That’s it.”

She continued after that, slightly bothered about what Raven had said at first. “But she’s- I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

Clarke didn’t answer till she’d zipped up her coat and gotten her scarf on right. They were just about to leave the basement where group was – it had been nice, chill, and now it was time for Raven to take her to ‘the best chicken place in Polis’. At least, according to Raven Reyes.

“If she’s  _my_ girl,” Clarke shrugged as the walked up the stairs to the door. “She’s…something.”

“Ah. Not sure where you are, huh?”

Clarke shrugged again. “Maybe…”

“Or are you just afraid to get into it?”

This time, Clarke shook her head. “I’m just confused.”

“You like her though, right?”

Clarke stopped in her steps and looked at Raven incredulously. “Of course I do.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation. “I told you about Finn.”

“Yeah,” Raven sighed. “God, he’s an ass.”

“It just feels weird, you know? I don’t know how to do things anymore,” Clarke said. “I don’t know how to even ask if she’d want to be my- you know.”

“You mean girlfriend?”

Raven was teasing, but so gently it only made Clarke smile.

“It’s like I can’t even tell if she’d want to be-“

“Stop right there,” Raven interrupted. “No, stop. You’re wondering _if_ she’d want to be your girlfriend? Clarke, don’t be an idiot. Of course she’d want to.”

“You don’t know-“

“You’re such a catch, Clarke! And she-“

Suddenly, Raven fell silent. Clarke watched an expression of realization cross her face – and then, astonishment.

“Hold up.”

“What’s up with your face?” Clarke asked.

“Did you go out with Lexa on New Year’s?”

Clarke nodded. “Yeah...?”

“Please tell me you’re the reason Lexa punched Finn.”

When Clarke nodded again, Raven let out a laugh and gave her a happy nudge. “See? Girlfriend. She wants to be yours.”

“Because she punched some guy?”

“Because, I’m guessing, she defended your honor. If I know anything about Finn, he probably started being an ass the second he saw you-“

“Yeah-“

“And she punched him. To shut him up?”

“Yeah.”

“I would’ve paid to see that,” Raven sighed. “Oh, hey, the bus is coming.”

* * *

The restaurant turned out to be the very reflection of Raven, if she were to be a restaurant. Loud and bright but at the same time somehow very comfortable and inviting – in no way did the crowd outside put Clarke off.

Raven may have run off to get to the last free booth, at the very end of the restaurant.

Clarke may have laughed when she saw Raven shove a guy out of her way to get it.

“Sorry about my friend,” she said to him in passing, laughing a little at his confused expression.

Raven didn’t even care. “I’m not sitting at the tables, it’s so noisy. This is nicer.”

Clarke agreed. “So, what do you recommend?”

“You down for drinks tonight? Either answer is fine, yes or no.”

“Not drunk, I don't really like doing that anymore,” Clarke began. “But…a drink or two will be fine.”

“Great, because they have the best cocktail to go with the chicken.”

“A cocktail with chicken?”

“It’s just a few beers and soda mixed, really, but it just…it’s a thing. Trust me, okay?”

Clarke laughed. “Fine, fine.”

Raven ordered a bunch of food, way more than Clarke thought she could consume. ‘Leftovers are so good, too’ had been Raven’s explanation – but still, when the plates just kept on coming, Clarke couldn’t help but laugh.

“I got us a little bit of everything,” Raven shrugged. “You’ll love it.”

And it was good. But what was even better was the talking.

Clarke hadn’t really talked with anyone about Lexa. And with Raven, she felt like she could. Raven even promised not to say a word to anyone else till Clarke let her, without Clarke even having to ask her to – she did it of her own volition.

“Since you’re not publicly making out yet, I’m guessing you want to keep it secret,” Raven had smirked. “It’s cool, I get it. Secrets can be fun.”

Clarke laughed at that.

“Yeah, they really can be.”

Lexa had texted her during their meal. Raven had a knowing smirk on her face when Clarke looked up from her phone, one which made Clarke get a little bit annoyed.

“Shut up,” she muttered. “Don’t say it.”

“Was it Lexa?”

“Yeah…”

“What’d she say? Care to share with the class?”

Clarke knew she wasn’t serious. She could tell by the smile tugging at Raven’s lips that she was just teasing.

“She just said she came back from the doctor,” Clarke shrugged.

“She’s not feeling well?”

“Yeah, she isn’t.”

Lexa, apparently, had not just the flu, but a sinus infection as well.

**(Lexa, 6:19 p.m.)**

_I feel worse than I did this morning._

_May be dying._

_I hope I didn’t get you sick._

Clarke had sent her a message back assuring her she didn’t.

**(Clarke, 6:20 p.m.)**

_I’ve had the flu shot, since mom works at the hospital._

_I’ll be fine._

_You just get better, okay?_

 

* * *

 

Lexa’s body was starting to ache a little. The slight headache she’d had for the past week and thought nothing of had turned out to be a sinus infection, and her fever was rising – apparently, she had the flu.

Nothing bad, her doctor had said. She just had to rest up, drink plenty of fluids, and get better. Take pain killers if she needed them, but the most important thing she had to do was rest.

She hadn’t really felt that bad that morning. Or maybe she had, but she’d just thought it was a light headache and that she hadn’t slept well.

Now, half a day later, she definitely felt sick. Weak and sleepy, a little bit cranky, and most of all, needy – she just wanted Clarke’s attention. But she didn’t want to bother Clarke, either. The whole afternoon, Lexa had stared at her phone, napping in random intervals. Whenever Clarke had replied, she’d had to fight herself not to answer immediately, and to avoid spamming her with messages. Thursdays were the only days Clarke was busy, and Lexa wasn’t about to butt in on that.

She wanted to, though.

But when Clarke finally was free, Lexa was surprised to hear her phone ringing. So surprised, in fact, that she answered immediately, not realizing her throat was sore and mouth was dry.

“Hey,” she croaked out, reaching for her water bottle and taking a sip so fast she ended up coughing some water back up. “Sorry, my throat was dry.”

“Hey. You alright?”

“Yeah,” Lexa sighed, sniffling a little. “Tired.”

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, no,” Lexa said quickly. “No, I was just dozing on and off. My headache won’t go away, hard to sleep when my head feels like it’s about to pop…”

“Aww, poor baby,” Clarke sighed. “I’ll come by tomorrow, I promise.”

“It’s the flu, Clarke, you’ll get sick too-“

“My mom’s been seeing flu patients for weeks and bringing all her germs home, and I’m fine. I've had my shots, I’ll be good.”

“No kissing.”

Lexa could almost hear Clarke’s pout.

“Fine,” Clarke sighed. “No mouth kisses.”

“Why’d you say it like that? Mouth kisses sounds so…weird.”

“You’re not going to stop me from kissing your forehead, are you?”

Lexa had to take a few deep breaths to be able to think properly after Clarke put the idea of her giving her forehead kisses into her head.

“No, I…I definitely am not.”

“You sound sleepy.”

“I’m on drugs,” Lexa blurted out. “And I’m sick.”

“What drugs?”

“Some stuff to clear up my sinuses and pain killers.”

“Do you have soup?”

“Anya’s making some.”

“Good.”

Lexa sighed and rolled over in bed, wrapping her blankets more around herself. “I wish you were here.”

“Why?”

“You’re so warm.”

“That sounds weird.”

“No, like…in my bed. When you sleep, you feel so warm…”

Clarke laughed. “You’re adorable.”

“I am,” Lexa grinned. “But you really should be here.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” Clarke promised. “And I’ll stay the night. And cuddle you. And bring you soup. Not make soup, I’m not that good of a cook, but if there’s leftovers from today, I can bring them to you.”

“And give me forehead kisses?”

“All the forehead kisses you want.”

Lexa closed her eyes and smiled. “Perfect.”

“You’re not coming to lectures tomorrow, then?”

“No, absolutely not. I don’t want to leave bed right now at all.”

“Good. Then stay in bed.”

“Come make me.”

Lexa may have been beyond drowsy and maybe not as in control of what she was saying as usual. Not that Clarke minded – she just thought it was beyond cute.

“Tomorrow, Lexa. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

Lexa yawned. “I think- I think I need to sleep.”

“Then do.”

“But I don’t want to hang up.”

“Then don’t,” Clarke smiled. “I’ll hang up once you’ve fallen asleep.”

“That…yeah. Let’s do that.”

Lexa kept on rambling, her answers slowly growing more and more apart, containing less and less words, till she finally fell silent.

Clarke, who was just walking from the bus stop to her house, listened to Lexa’s breathing for a minute or two before hanging up the phone.

“Good night, huh?” her mother asked when Clarke walked in to the kitchen.

Clarke may have been smiling when she’d come in.

“Yeah, really good.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Abby smiled. “Cocoa?”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Clarke sent Lexa a good morning text before heading to class.

**(Clarke, 08:05 a.m.)**

_Good morning cutie._

_Hope you’re not feeling too sick :(_

Lexa didn’t reply till way later, when Clarke was having a sandwich for lunch, hiding out in the far corner of the campus cafeteria.

**(Lexa, 12:29 p.m.)**

_Good morning, or afternoon_

_I’m not dying, so that’s a plus._

_When are you coming over?_

**(Clarke, 12:31 p.m.)**

_One more lecture, will be done at 2._

_So…around half past 2?_

**(Lexa, 12:31 p.m.)**

_Can’t wait._

Clarke missed most of what was said during her last lecture. She managed to write down the date, and not much more than that, in her notebook; she was more focused on thinking about Lexa.

Cuddling Lexa, holding her tight…laying with her on the couch, or in her bed, resting her chin on Lexa’s shoulder, nuzzling her face into Lexa’s neck, breathing in her scent…

When the bell rang, she was the first out of the door. She was the first at the bus stop, she was the first to hop off the bus when she got to the right stop, and when she got near Lexa’s house, she walked as fast as she dared – it was icy out, and windy as could be. By the time she got to Lexa’s door, she was shivering, and more than ready to cuddle up to a feverishly warm Lexa.

How she looked, however, took Clarke’s breath away. Cozy and bundled up in leggings and wool socks and her hoodie, hair pulled up into a messy bun, cheeks a shining pink and eyes maybe a little dark – she was just beyond adorable.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lexa asked, looking at Clarke with a funny look.

“You look too kissable right now,” Clarke told her, smiling a little as she stepped into the apartment. “Way too kissable.”

“Don’t try it, though. I’m not getting you sick.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Clarke sighed, taking off her coat and hanging it up. “So, what do you want to do?”

“Cuddle,” Lexa yawned, taking Clarke’s hand and leading her to the living room. “I have food.”

“Soup?”

“Better,” Lexa smiled. “A salad.”

“A salad? That’s your comfort food?”

“One of many,” Lexa shrugged. “Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

Clarke just chuckled and sat down on the couch. “Fine, fine, if you like it, then it must be good.”

“That’s right, I’ve got good taste,” Lexa grinned.

“Why are you still standing up?”

Lexa hesitated a little. “Can I- can I sit in your lap?”

Clarke shuffled back a little and made room. “Go ahead.”

Lexa felt nice against her. Nice and warm.

Maybe a little warmer than usual.

“You’ve taken your meds, right?” Clarke asked, fingers gently playing with Lexa’s hair as she watched Lexa divide the salad up into two bowls.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re drinking enough?”

Lexa nodded towards the water bottle and mug of tea on the table. “Got it covered.”

Clarke sighed and hugged her tighter, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m way better now," Lexa smiled.

Being held by Clarke did, really, improve how she felt. Tremendously.

They sat in silence for a while, eating the salads Lexa had gotten. Clarke had to admit that they were, in fact, really good; she wasn’t that big a fan of salads, not usually, but her grilled salmon and couscous salad really was something else.

“It’s got plenty of vitamins, that’s why I figured I should have it,” Lexa yawned as she reached over to put the bowl on the table. “And they deliver, so…”

She was cut off by another yawn.

“Are you sleepy?”

Lexa shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Should you get to bed?”

There, Lexa frowned. “Only if you come with.”

“You’re such a needy baby,” Clarke chuckled.

“That’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“No,” Clarke admitted. “It’s adorable.”

“No kissing.”

“What? I wasn’t going to-“

“Thought you were,” Lexa shrugged. “Ugh, my head hurts. Everything hurts.”

“You tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You should get up.”

“No.”

“Lexa…you need to go to bed.”

“Not yet.”

Lexa had turned a little in Clarke’s lap, so that she was facing her. Her arms were around Clarke’s neck, her legs over her lap…it was only natural that Clarke then wrapped her arms around Lexa and stood up with her in her arms.

“Clarke! Careful-“

“You barely weigh anything, Lexa,” Clarke laughed. “And you’re going to bed.”

Lexa ended up curled up on top of Clarke, face resting against her shoulder.

When Clarke kissed her forehead, she heard a little happy hum from Lexa.

“That felt nice,” Lexa said quietly. “Do it again?”

And so Clarke did. She kissed Lexa’s forehead a few times, and played with her hair; and then, after playing with her hair, she stroked Lexa’s back, ran her hand along her arms, gently touching her in places where it wasn’t too intimate. She didn’t touch bare skin, other than her hands and neck, and didn’t sneak her hands under her clothes – that felt like a bit too far.

Lexa just laid there, barely awake, eyes closed.

Happy, even though she definitely felt awfully sick.

“You’re so nice,” she sighed, yawning again as she shifted on top of Clarke and relaxed. Hugged her tighter, pressed her face more into her; she felt so, _so_ good against her own body. “I love you.”

Lexa didn’t see, but Clarke’s eyes widened when she heard her say those last three words.

Lexa was barely awake anyway. In the few minutes it took for Clarke to get over herself and actually to a place where she could say something, Lexa had fallen asleep. That left Clarke laying there, in Lexa’s bed, Lexa asleep on top of her, with _that_ piece of information now roaming her mind.

Clarke was sure Lexa wasn’t serious. She was sick, she was sleepy, she was delirious; she couldn’t be serious.

It had only been a few dates.

It didn’t feel too wrong, but it did feel a little…weird. Was it too soon? Clarke didn’t even know, really.

She’d only ever said it to one person, and with him she hadn’t even meant it.

_Fuck._

That was what went through Clarke’s mind a lot. It didn’t feel bad, Lexa saying it didn’t make her feel bad; it just felt like it was too soon for her. She definitely knew she couldn't be saying it back, not yet at least.

But she tried her best not to think of it too much.

She liked Lexa. A lot.

She knew that eventually, she could love her. If she got the time, and chances, to build up trust.

Lexa was just sick. That had to be it. Surely she hadn't meant it.

Clarke resolved to talk about it with her when she woke up and was more coherent. She convinced herself Lexa had just slipped up with her words – maybe she’d meant to say ‘I love it’ instead of ‘I love you’.

Perhaps, at the back of her mind, she was thinking it wasn’t possible that someone could love her so soon. But she wasn’t conscious of that.

And for the time being, she wasn’t worried.

She didn’t feel weird.

It had been a mistake. And Lexa was asleep, her steady slow breaths lulling Clarke into a drowsy state.

_I’ll sleep_ , Clarke decided. _Maybe that’ll clear up my mind a little._

It felt good. Lexa curled up on top of her, so relaxed. Even though Clarke wished she weren’t sick and feeling so bad, she couldn’t help but feel that Lexa being ill was sort of sweet at the same time; it gave her a chance to take care of her.

And that, well…it felt really, really good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when one is sick, one must write sick fluff. it's basically the law, really.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates are back! i'm no longer sick and i'm now comfortably settled at college, so i should be able to write normally (at least for the first month till the assignments start slamming me like a bitch)
> 
> but anyway, enough about me, enjoy!

Lexa woke up in the morning to the unmistakeable creak of her bedroom door being pushed open. Clarke was still in her bed, and so she was confused as to who it could be before she saw, in the light spilling from the living room, Anya’s figure.

Clarke was asleep, arms wrapped around Lexa’s waist, face pressed into her shoulder. All Lexa wanted to do was sleep some more; she did _not_ feel good.

“Sorry,” Anya whispered. “Didn’t know you had company.”

She was keeping the door as shut as possible, so as to prevent the light from waking Clarke.

“You’re home early,” Lexa muttered.

“I won’t bother you,” Anya said quickly. “Was just going to ask if you wanted breakfast? I’m making waffles.”

Anya always made Lexa waffles when she was sick or having a bad day.

“I want to sleep,” Lexa yawned. “So maybe not-“

“I’ll have some,” came a mumbled answer from behind her. Both Lexa and Anya looked at Clarke, surprised; neither one of them had realized she was awake.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Anya apologized, no longer whispering.

“It’s okay,” Clarke assured her. “I heard you drop that bowl a few minutes ago.”

Lexa hadn’t heard a thing.

“So, waffles or no waffles?”

“What time is it?”

“Half past eleven.”

“How?” Clarke yawned. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“You two can sleep some more,” Anya chuckled, eyeing the pair with a slight smile on her face. “It’ll take a while for me to make them, anyway.”

Behind her, Lexa felt Clarke shift, stretch a little, and then heard a soft yawn – she let out a little whine at the end before burying her face into Lexa’s neck, so cute it made Lexa’s heart ache.

“Lexa?”

“Hm?”

“Can we-“ Clarke paused for a breath, wondering if she should wait till later to ask. “Can we talk?”

That woke Lexa up _real_ fast.

‘Can we talk’ never sounds too good.

For most people, it activates their fight-or-flight response. And that applied to Lexa, too.

She turned around so she was facing Clarke, and looked at her in confusion. “What?”

Clarke sighed, clearly not sure how to phrase whatever she had to say. “It’s…it’s nothing bad.”

“Then what is it?”

“How much do you remember from before you fell asleep last night?”

Lexa shrugged. “Cuddling…?”

For a moment, she got worried. “I didn’t do anything, did I? Make you uncomfortable? ‘Cause you can just smack me with a pillow and wake me up if I do something in my sleep like grab you wrong or-“

“No, no,” Clarke laughed. “No, you didn’t _do_ anything…”

“Then what?”

“You said something.”

“How dumb was it?”

A pause.

“Not dumb. You said you love me.”

Lexa stared at Clarke for a while, overwhelmingly thankful that the lights were still off. She was definitely, most certainly, blushing.

Clarke was waiting for Lexa to say…something. Anything, really.

“I-“ Lexa began, pausing to gather her thoughts. “Hm.”

There was a long pause. Lexa didn’t exactly know what to say.

She felt it. Or thought she did, anyway.

And she wasn’t going to lie and say she didn’t. She wasn’t so sure she could ever lie to Clarke.

“I was delirious,” she began, shrugging a little. “And definitely didn’t mean to say it, I know it’s soon…”

“But were you serious?”

Clarke’s heart leapt to her throat when Lexa’s eyes met hers.

“I…I don’t joke about that,” Lexa said slowly. “So maybe? I know I like you, a lot. And I know we haven’t even discussed what we are, I don’t even know if this is the time-“

She paused and looked at Clarke. So far, she didn’t look bothered, or like she’d bolt; she looked like she was waiting for something.

“Why do you look like that?”

Clarke shrugged. “Shouldn’t we discuss now, then?”

And then, she let out a laugh, and added: “God, ‘discuss’ – it sounds so formal.”

Lexa wasn’t in such a laughing mood. For some reason, she was a little nervous.

Or a lot.

“I like you, Clarke,” she began, her voice quiet. “A lot, actually. And maybe what I said last night, I- I might feel it. Or eventually feel it.”

She could tell she was about to start rambling, and so, forced herself to stop.

“Just tell me if you’d like to be my girlfriend?”

The words came out of her mouth so quick Clarke just barely caught them. Perhaps there was a bit of a twist in her gut that was four parts good and one part not so much; perhaps, she felt a little out of place.

She hadn’t expected to find herself here, with someone wanting to date her, again – not so soon, at the very least.

But she smiled, and saw relief pass over Lexa’s face.

“Yes, I’d like to be your girlfriend,” she said, the tone of her voice just slightly teasing. “And I like you too.”

Lexa grinned wide, so wide, and moved forward as if for a kiss – which she didn’t, in the end, do. “This is- nice.”

“You’re still not going to let me kiss you, huh?”

She hesitated. “I- I don’t want to get you sick!”

“I slept in the same bed as you. I’m all covered in your germs anyway.”

Lexa frowned. “Fine. One kiss.”

“Is it really so terrible to be kissing me?” Clarke teased her as she leaned in, cupping Lexa’s face with her hands.

“No,” came Lexa’s answer, right after the kiss, breathed out as if Clarke had stolen her voice.

There was a brief moment of silence where Clarke was still near Lexa.

Just a very brief silence, one which was broken by Lexa coughing a little and asking:

“Kiss me again?”

 

* * *

 

The waffles were getting cold on the table. Anya sat there, waiting, listening to the muffled giggles coming from Lexa’s room, scrolling through her phone with nothing particular in her focus.

When fifteen minutes had passed, she sighed, turned the oven on low, and put the waffles there to stay warm while she made herself a cup of coffee and waited a bit more.

Ten minutes later, the pair finally emerged.

“Thought you’d never come out,” Anya teased Lexa, ruffling her hair as she walked past her to the oven. “Sit.”

“You’ve met Clarke, right?”

“Not formally, no,” Anya shrugged, giving Clarke a smile. “I’m Anya. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Clarke said, a little bit shy – it was more than awkward having to interact with her now-girlfriend’s sister for the first time.

But Anya turned out to be nice. A little reserved, very badass, and a very kind sister to Lexa, even with all the teasing. She didn’t make Clarke feel like she was out of place, and that was something she appreciated.

Also, she made amazing waffles.

When breakfast was done, Lexa got up to clear the table, to which both Clarke and Anya simultaneously objected.

“Lexa, you should be resting,” Clarke said, smiling a little.

“Yeah, what your girlfriend said,” Anya backed her up, giving Lexa a pointed look. “Off to bed.”

“I don’t want to go alone-“ Lexa pouted, giving Clarke a look.

Anya just laughed. “Go, both of you, before you start frenching on the table.”

“She won’t let me,” Clarke sighed, allowing Lexa to take her hand and start leading her away. “Because she doesn’t want to get me sick.”

Anya just laughed and watched them go.

 

* * *

 

Monday came around, and Lexa was still sick.

Maybe a little improved, but still very much sick. Feverish, miserable, and most definitely bored.

Clarke had come by right after her lectures, and spent an hour before having to reluctantly go – she had dinner with her mother.

Lexa had actually forced Clarke into going. Clarke would’ve much rather stayed at Lexa’s, in Lexa’s bed; but Lexa hadn’t let her call her mom and cancel. It didn’t matter that Lexa definitely wanted Clarke to stay. She knew Clarke needed a nice moment with her mom, too, every now and then.

“And who knows when you’ll have the next chance? She’s a busy woman, Clarke.”

“You talk as if you know her.”

“She _did_ fix my ankle,” Lexa reminded her.

_And berated me for screwing it up running on New Year’s,_ she’d thought to herself.

It had taken some time, but she’d managed to get Clarke up and out of the apartment with enough time that she wouldn’t be obscenely late to dinner.

Mere minutes after Lexa had seen Clarke disappear down the street, the doorbell rang again.

It was Costia, with a box of donuts in her hand.

“You should answer your phone,” she huffed as she stepped inside, shaking a little bit of snow out of her hair before flashing Lexa a smile. “Octavia wouldn’t come, she’s such a terrible friend-“

“Cos, shush,” Lexa laughed, taking the box of doughnuts from her and heading to the kitchen. “I know Octavia couldn’t come because she doesn’t want to get sick. And I understand that. I would’ve told you not to come if you’d have texted beforehand-“

“I did,” Costia interjected. “You just didn’t reply. I had to come and see that you weren’t dead, or something…”

“Well, I’m not dead,” Lexa smiled. “Other than dead tired.”

“I brought you your favorites, lemon curd and a chocolate one, and a few more,” Costia said when she saw Lexa open the box. “The lemon one is still fresh, they practically put it in the box straight out of the fryer.”

“And I’m guessing the Boston cream is yours, like always?”

“You know me,” Costia smirked. “Now, you sit down, I’ll make you tea. And then you can copy my notes and I’ll tell you what happened today.”

Lexa didn’t mind Costia coming over, even if she did have no warning.

She’d maybe missed one-on-one moments with Costia.

Maybe she’d missed them a lot.

The tea Costia made was always somehow better, even if it was the same exact tea Lexa used at home. And she knew which mug was her favorite, too.

Turquoise and pink and white, a gold rim, and a little black cat painted on the handle.

“So, which one do you want first. Art history?”

“Oh, I already got those notes-“ Lexa began, pausing a little when she realized she’d maybe shared a bit too much.

Clarke had given her the notes. Of course she had.

Lexa just hadn’t considered that their class was small and that Costia would now, inevitably, go through each person, wondering who had given her the notes.

“From who?” Costia asked, frowning a little. “Didn’t know you knew anyone else in that class.”

She may have sounded a little hurt that Lexa had already gotten the notes off someone else. Even if it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“I just saw someone’s notes on the class Facebook page,” Lexa shrugged. “But I already have those, so…what else did we have today?”

“Well, in political theory we just talked about Hobbes again,” Costia sighed, handing her the notebook. “Bo-oring.”

“Hey, it’s not _that_ boring,” Lexa interjected.

“When it’s the second lecture on the same topic, it’s boring.”

There was a bit of silence where Costia just studied Lexa and Lexa tried her very best not to notice or pay too much attention to that.

“Was it the girl you’re seeing?”

“Cos, I’ll tell you about her soon, I promise-“

“So it was her. She was here today?”

Though she was smiling, it looked a little strained; though she was being as friendly and kind as she could be, Lexa still felt a slight coldness from her.

Or restraint. One of the two, perhaps a hint of both.

“Yeah,” Lexa smiled. “Yeah, she was.”

“So is it serious yet?”

“Um…yeah.”

“Why won’t you tell me then? Not like I’m going to be declaring it to the world, or anything…”

Lexa paused.

Costia was right, really. Lexa knew she wouldn’t be declaring it to the world.

But the thing about secrets, sometimes it’s hard to finally say them out loud when you give yourself ‘permission’.

“Lex? You look weird. You alright?”

Costia’s hand touched her knee, and Lexa looked up, suddenly set on her choice.

“You promise you won’t tell anyone? Or at least, I don’t know, Octavia and them…? I feel like I should be the one to say it, since I’ve been keeping it a secret for some time…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Costia interrupted. “Sorry, you just- you look a little nauseous.”

“I’m a little nervous, yeah,” Lexa laughed. “Which I shouldn’t be, everything is fine and it isn’t _that_ big of a deal-“

“Then say it, silly.”

“Her name is Clarke.”

“You say that as if I’d know who that is.”

“Clarke Griffin.”

Costia just stared at her blankly.

“Alright, you know that blonde who always sits alone in the back row?”

Costia’s expression was yet to change. Which was reasonable – if Lexa had managed to not notice Clarke for a month, it was only reasonable not many others noticed her either.

“Hold on,” Lexa sighed, reaching for her phone. She scrolled through her gallery till she found the pictures from the museum. Most were from behind, snapshots from when she hadn’t been looking – but one of them was from the side, with a reflection of her face behind her on an icy mirror.

She showed that picture to Costia, who nodded slightly before saying:

“Yeah, I might’ve seen her somewhere…she’s pretty.”

“So pretty,” Lexa sighed out, putting her phone away. “Beautiful.”

Though it wounded Costia just the slightest bit to hear Lexa say that, she didn’t let it show.

“So you’re what, dating? Girlfriends?”

“Yeah,” Lexa smiled, reaching for her mug. “I mean…yeah. The second one.”

“She’s your _girlfriend?”_ Costia exclaimed. “It’s been like, a month?”

“Well…”

“How long, Lexa?”

“We’ve known each other since October.”

“October? And I’m finding out just now?”

“I- she’s different,” Lexa shrugged. “You know me, I don’t…I don’t really date. Or didn’t.”

“Yeah, because you’re picky,” Costia muttered into her mug, smirking a little.

"I'm not picky, I just- never got deeper feelings that easy."

"I know, Lex, you don't have to explain yourself," Costia smiled. "Go on."

“But she feels right? And I didn’t want to rush anything,” Lexa sighed. "She's just...great. So great."

“You’re smiling.”

“Yeah…”

They chatted for a bit, about this and that, not much more about Clarke.

Costia left after only spending an hour.

Laundry, she’d said. She had to wash a dress today if she wanted it to be dry for Wednesday’s party.

“Wish you could come,” she said with a slight pout. “You’ve always loved the Snow Sports fundraiser.”

“Yeah, but I love feeling healthy more,” Lexa retorted. “But keep bringing me notes, and I won’t say no to more donuts…”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

Anya came in the same time Costia was leaving, and stared after her for a while before following Lexa to the kitchen.

“Why did Costia look so pissed?”

“Pissed? She wasn’t pissed.”

“She looked like she’d just swallowed a lemon,” Anya shrugged. “Maybe I was seeing things.”

“I didn’t say anything to piss her off, I told her about Clarke and-“

“Oh, Lexa.”

“What?”

“Costia has had a crush on you for ages.”

“I know you keep saying that but I- even if she did, she'd have gotten over it by now? Right?”

“Are you sure?”

Lexa groaned, realizing she'd definitely not paid enough attention to how her best friend was feeling. “I’m an idiot.”

“Maybe a little. Go to bed.”

“Why?”

“You look like you're swaying. I’ll bet your fever is going up again, so get to bed. I’ll bring you food later.”

 

* * *

 

On Thursday, Costia ran into Clarke outside the flower shop just down the street from Lexa’s house. She was so unmistakeably the girl Lexa had shown her, and Costia couldn’t help but just freeze in her steps and watch as the blonde walked down the street, bouquet nestled in the crook of her arm, to the door to Lexa’s building, and disappeared inside.

She hadn’t missed the smile on her face, either.

Clarke hadn’t ever bought flowers for someone. She hadn’t really planned on buying Lexa flowers, either – she’d just come down a different route, and seen the shop window, and just…walked in. And then had bought Lexa a bouquet of white roses because she hadn’t been sure what she liked.

She had noticed Costia watching her, for a brief moment. She did know Lexa had told her about them, about having a girlfriend; but up till now, she hadn’t yet seen her.

It had been strange to see her be so startled to find Clarke standing in front of her. But only a little strange – in no way had it weirded her out.

Lexa opened the door to reveal that she was, once again, wearing Clarke’s hoodie.

“I’ll just let you keep that,” Clarke laughed as she stepped in. “Since you like it so much.”

“I love it,” Lexa yawned, eyeing the bouquet in Clarke's arms curiously. “What are those?”

“Flowers. For you.”

“What for?”

“For being so cute,” Clarke shrugged, leaning over and kissing Lexa on the cheek. “And to cheer you up. I know being sick sucks.”

“Sucks less with you here,” Lexa smiled widely. “Anything major happen today?”

Clarke shook her head. “No, not really. Your friend, Costia, I saw her outside the flower shop. Gave me a weird look.”

“Oh, no-“

“No, it wasn’t bad,” Clarke quickly amended. “I guess she just…realized who I was, for the first time. I’d be weirded out too.”

While she was explaining, Lexa had led her to the kitchen and managed to open the paper wrappings around the bouquet, and let out an appreciative sigh.

“Oh, they’re _beautiful_ ,” she smiled, enveloping Clarke in a tight hug. “I love them.”

“I didn’t know what to get, so-“

Clarke was cut off by a quick kiss from Lexa.

“I thought kisses weren’t allowed.”

“I’ll allow them once, for this,” Lexa smirked. “Now I need to find a vase.”

“I’ll get it, you sit still and take it easy,” Clarke insisted.

“You’re so cute.”

Clarke really had only one response to that.

“You’re cuter.”

 

* * *

 

“So, how are things with Lexa?”

Clarke looked at her mother across the table and frowned. “Why?”

“No reason, just making conversation,” Abby shrugged.

There was a slight knowing look in her eye that Clarke couldn’t shake off.

“It’s just, you’ve been out every day for a few days, coming home late…”

Clarke could feel her ears getting a little red.

She wasn’t really sure what to say.

“I don’t know, I- she’s nice.”

“In a friend way?”

Clarke knew her mother knew. She also knew her mother would keep hinting till she told her herself. She could just tell from the slightly victorious look she had in her eye.

“No, Mom, not in a friend way…”

“Oh, really?”

“Don’t act dumb.”

“I’m not, I just don’t like to make assumptions…”

Clarke let out a laugh. “I may be…sort of…dating her?”

“Sort of? Are you or are you not?”

“I am,” Clarke muttered, focusing heavily on her plate of spaghetti.

“That’s wonderful, I knew you two would make a good pair,” her mother smiled.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing at all,” Abby shrugged, taking a sip of her wine.

“Mom,” Clarke said sternly, though a slight smile was tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Did you set me up with her?”

“Well, _I_ certainly wouldn’t think that going to a romantic light garden and dinner with just one very pretty girl would be anything but a date…”

“You’re impossible,” Clarke laughed. “Really.”

“It worked, though,” Abby smiled. “And I didn’t meddle, I promise. I just…gave you a little nudge.”

Clarke laughed again and shook her head. “You really are impossible.”

“It’s just because I love you, baby,” Abby said gently. “And sometimes my baby needs help.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that,” Clarke groaned. I’m not a baby.”

“Yes you are, _my_ baby.”

“Stop teasing.”

“Fine, fine. Eat your vegetables, we have brownies for dessert.”

For a while, they ate in relative calm and peace.

Till, of course, Abby spoke up again, with a question Clarke had known to prepare for.

“You should bring her around to dinner sometime.”

“I- I will,” Clarke promised. “Maybe not just now.”

“I know, just…I do want to meet her. Properly, not in a doctor’s office.”

“We’ll see.”

* * *

After dinner, they were both seated in the living room, doing their respective things in calm silence. There was a fire on in the fireplace, and a pot of tea on the coffee table, still steaming hot. Matching mother & daughter mugs, ones Clarke had made in 2nd grade for Mother’s day, were on the table near their respective owners.

“How would you feel about getting another dog?”

Clarke, having been focused on her sketching, looked up in confusion. “A dog? Huh?”

“A dog would brighten this house up a little, don’t you think?” her mother continued, as if it were the most casual topic in the world. “You just adored Birdie when you were little.”

Birdie had been their dog when Clarke had been small. She’d passed away years ago, and since then they hadn’t really gotten around to getting a new dog.

She’d been named that by Clarke, who, at just 11 months old, had pointed at the new puppy, and with all the confidence in the world, uttered her first word: Birdie.

So that had been her name.

“I mean…yeah,” Clarke agreed. “A dog would be nice.”

She was a little hesitant.

“Of course, you could take the dog with you when you move out again,” Abby added. “Or I could keep it. I don’t think I’d like living here all alone. It would be too quiet.”

Clarke had to admit she had been slightly worried about the prospect of leaving again and leaving her mother all alone in the house.

“I’d love a puppy,” she admitted. “But only from a shelter.”

Mentioning a shelter reminded her of Lexa, and her volunteerwork there.

_Oh, Lexa would be all over that puppy,_ Clarke thought to herself with a smile.

They didn’t discuss the puppy idea much further then. It was just an idea, a thought to dwell on, and quite honestly, it was all Clarke could think about for the rest of the evening. It felt like a good idea, really, something to lighten up the house and to get her into a routine – and, also, something to make her smile everyday. And to take care of, to cuddle…all in all, it sounded like a great idea.

When she headed up to bed, she noticed she had a few texts from Lexa.

**(Lexa, 7:19 p.m.)**

_Just napped for 5 hours and my headache got worse._

_Loving the ginseng tea you bought me._

_Hope dinner with your mom was nice._

**(Clarke, 9:02 p.m.)**

_Aw, baby, I wish you’d get better already._

_Can you take me to that shelter you go to sometime?_

**(Lexa, 9:03 p.m.)**

_Shelter? What for?_

_Are you thinking of getting a dog?_

**(Clarke, 9:04 p.m.)**

_You’re more excited about this than I am._

_But maybe?_

_It’s just an idea._

**(Lexa, 9:04 p.m.)**

_I’d love to take you._

_I think I’m going to run a bath and then go to sleep._

**(Clarke, 9:05 p.m.)**

_Don’t drown, okay?_

_Good night, cutie._

* * *

The roses Clarke had brought smelled amazing. And more than that, they made Lexa feel amazing – she couldn’t even remember if a girl had ever bought her flowers just on a whim. For special occasions, yes, but never just because she’d happened to walk past a flower shop and think of her.

She’d put them on her nightstand, just so she could look at them.

How Clarke had known that white roses were one of Lexa’s go-to’s, she wasn’t sure she’d ever know. But they were. And that did truly cheer her up and make her feel way better.

Everything felt amazing, even though she did really feel run down and still had a headache. A fever and exhaustion and headaches were no match to the bubbly feeling she got in her stomach and chest whenever she remembered Clarke was her girlfriend; it was one of the best things Lexa had felt in a long while.

She just felt good.

And what added to her happiness was seeing Clarke happy, too. Her laughter was music to Lexa’s ears, she couldn’t imagine a more beautiful view than her smile – she had the cutest smile – and just her joy and comfort was just too overwhelmingly amazing for Lexa to watch.

It had eased some anxiety on Lexa’s part, telling Costia. She was her best friend, after all – it had been the hardest to keep it from her. Even though now she was worried Costia was distancing herself, she still felt it had been the right choice; it would’ve been cruel to keep a secret from Costia for too long.

She knew she had to talk with Costia. But every time she’d tried, Costia had dodged it; not outright questions, but every time Lexa had tried to steer the conversation towards how she felt about Clarke, Costia had quickly moved on to other topics.

Lexa had been too tired to push for it, and was happy to wait for now.

Just as long as it was addressed somewhat soon.

 

* * *

 

“Cos, why do you keep looking at the door? Are you waiting for someone?”

Costia quickly turned back around and shook her head. “No-“

“Then what are you looking at?” Octavia continued, now looking back herself. “There’s that loner Griffin girl in the back row, that’s it, and I’m sure you’re not wanting to talk to her-“

“Why not?” Costia asked, frowning a little. "And how do you know her name?"

Octavia smirked. “Well, you know that Finn Lexa punched? I met him last weekend, again. He showed me a picture of her, just so I'd know what she looked like.”

Costia groaned audibly. “Don’t tell me you hooked up.”

“I have a boyfriend!” Octavia argued. “I’d never cheat on him, you know that.”

“Okay, then what about this Finn?”

“Well, he was _trying_ to get into my pants or at least get my number,” Octavia shrugged. “And then when he found out where I study, well…I heard some interesting things about weirdo Griffin up there.”

“How do you know she’s a weirdo? You don’t even know her,” Costia argued, not quite comfortable with how Octavia was unknowingly talking about Lexa’s girlfriend. She may not have entirely liked the situation herself, but she knew Lexa would’ve been angry had she heard how Octavia was talking about Clarke.

“She cheated on him,” Octavia began. “Multiple times. And then she got pregnant by Finn, lied about being on the pill I guess, and when Finn didn’t do what she wanted she aborted the baby like it was nothing. From what I heard she’s pretty awful. Left the school ‘cause everyone finally realized what a bitch she was-“

Costia just stared at Octavia, half doubtful. “Are you sure that’s what happened?”

Somehow she couldn’t see Lexa dating someone who would do that. Not unless she was drugged and concussed and half blind.

“Well, that’s what Finn told me,” Octavia shrugged. “I mean, you gotta admit it’s a bit weird how she never talks to _anyone_ , like she’s got something to hide…”

Costia, though she knew nothing about Clarke aside from her being Lexa’s girlfriend, felt uncomfortable.

“I mean…maybe? We don’t know the whole story.”

“What’s up with you today? Usually you’re all down for gossip.”

“We don’t know her, though. Maybe it’s just gossip and not true. It’s different when you _know_ it’s true…”

Octavia shrugged. “Okay, that’s fair. I know if Lexa was here she’d be saying the same thing, so I guess she delegated the moral adviser's title to you while she’s dying in bed.”

She gave Costia a playful nudge. “You heading round to her place later?”

Costia nodded. “Yeah, gotta take the notes to her.”

“Here,” Octavia said, reaching for her wallet and pulling out a 20. “Buy her donuts and something else from me, tea or that lemonade she likes, and tell her I’ll come visit on Monday if she’s still sick. And tell her I’m sorry I can’t come, I mean I’ve called her and stuff but y’know…I don’t want to get sick right now.”

“She understands, O, trust me. You have your weekend with Lincoln, you don’t want that ruined.”

“Exactly.”

 

* * *

 

Later that afternoon, Clarke ran into Costia for the second time that week at the door to Lexa’s building. This time, she was as startled to run into her; it was obvious they were both headed in the same direction, which made things a whole lot more awkward.

“You go ahead,” Costia muttered. “I’ll come around later, you can tell Lexa that-“

“No, you can come too,” Clarke said, though every word she said stirred up anxiety within her. “You’re probably coming to share notes, right?”

She eyed the box of donuts in her hand. “And dropping off her favorites, it seems.”

Costia nodded, somehow unable to think of what to say to the girl who was being way too nice for what she’d imagined.

She would’ve much rather had her be a total bitch.

“You sure? I can really come back later, it’s no problem-“

“Hey, it’s- it’s not weird,” Clarke shrugged. “Come on.”

She held the door open, and Costia smiled a quick thanks.

Halfway up the stairs, however, she stopped and turned around to look at Clarke with an odd expression.

“Can I ask you something?”

Clarke was very confused by that, and so nodded before she realized Costia’s question could’ve really been anything.

“Is it true, what Finn Collins is going around saying about you?”

Clarke paled, visibly so, and for a moment Costia thought it was true.

“No,” came Clarke’s answer, quiet as can be. “No, it’s not true.”

She sighed and looked out of the window. “But you have no reason to believe me, you don’t know me, but it…it’s not true.”

“If it were true, I’d tell you to stay away from Lexa,” Costia said coolly. “Does she know?”

Clarke nodded and sighed again. “They’re lies. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“As long as you’re who Lexa thinks you are, I’m fine. What I heard sounded a bit too unbelievable, anyway.”

Clarke frowned at that odd phrasing, but Costia turned around and headed upstairs, and that was the end of the conversation.

For the first talk with Lexa’s best friend, it could have gone better. But it also could have gone a lot worse, so overall Clarke was satisfied she’d made it through.

* * *

Lexa was both surprised and confused to open her door to find both Clarke and Costia standing in the doorway, side by side.

“Um, hey? I didn’t expect both of you at the same time-“

“I got out of class early, sorry,” Clarke sighed.

Every other day that week she’d kissed Lexa’s cheek when she’d come in. This time, she didn’t. It just felt a little odd showing affection with someone else there.

Lexa was secretly glad Clarke hadn’t kissed her cheek and given her a brief hug; having not talked to Costia yet, she didn’t want to put her in a position that possibly made her feel worse.

“We just happened to be here at the same time, and Clarke here insisted I come up since I came all the way anyway,” Costia smiled. “And I have donuts, this time from Octavia. She’s sorry she hasn’t come to visit.”

“She keeps saying sorry when there’s no need to,” Lexa said as she took the box and headed into the kitchen, with Clarke and Costia in tow.

“I’ll just share my notes with you real quick and then go,” Costia assured them both. "Leave you two alone."

“You don’t need to rush on my account, I can just wait in Lexa’s room if you want to chat,” Clarke offered.

“Or you could sit with us,” Lexa said, looking at Clarke. “Only if you want, though,” she added softly to her, smiling a little.

“Nah, if I hurry I might be able to make it to the bookshop on time to buy a new folder before it closes,” Costia insisted. “Now come on, let’s get to work.”

* * *

Costia was gone within the half hour, much to everyone’s relief. It wasn’t that Lexa didn’t want her there, or that Clarke really minded her, or that Costia had felt too uncomfortable – but it had been awkward. And it was all so new, too.

It was one thing hearing that Lexa had a girlfriend and another seeing it in person.

And for Clarke and Lexa, it had been, well, awkward. They were too new to really know how to perfectly conduct each other with just the two of them there, let alone with others – it was all new and yet to be learned.

The second Costia left, Lexa whirled around and slid her arms around Clarke’s waist, hugging her tight.

“I missed you today.”

Clarke let out a little laugh. “Can’t make it through 24 hours without me, huh?”

Lexa shook her head and kissed her cheek. “Nope.”

“Still no real kisses?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment Saturday, if I get the all clear then I’ll kiss you plenty.”

“Promise?”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “You really think I like not kissing you?”

She kissed Clarke’s jaw, gently, and whispered: “I really, really…” She paused, kissing Clarke’s neck a few times before continuing, “ _Really_ want to kiss you.”

That sent shivers down Clarke’s spine.

And maybe, just _maybe_ , turned her on a little.

“You’re gonna make me fall over, Lexa, if you keep talking like that.”

“I’d catch you,” Lexa murmured, still kissing along her neck. “You know I would.”

Clarke let out a little laugh. “You’re sick, stop being so sexy...”

“I know. But I like doing this,” Lexa said quietly, kissing her neck again. “Won’t go any further.”

“Kinda wish we could,” Clarke sighed, drawing Lexa to glance at her curiously.

“Really?”

Clarke just smirked. “Mm-hmm.”

That made Lexa’s head spin a little more than necessary.

It had been happening a lot, the past few days. There had been a lot of breathless pauses where Clarke had told Lexa to slow down, because she needed to get better before they could have that sort of fun. Lexa, each time, assured it wouldn’t get that far.

And each time, they somehow ended up in a situation where Clarke was just barely holding it together and not pulling Lexa’s pants off right there and then.

“Once you get better, we can talk,” she’d promised, cuddling up to Lexa later that night. “No need to rush.”

Lexa was happy with that. “If you keep teasing me, though, there may be some need to rush.”

Clarke just chuckled, her breaths tickling Lexa’s neck.

And then, she added a line that had Lexa laying in bed well into the night, cheeks red and her whole body tense with desire.

_“You don’t even know what my teasing is like.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah them cuties, love them


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a fair warning here, there's some nsfw stuff that happens in this chapter
> 
> but also cute shit so do with that info what you will

“Hey, look, dead woman walking!”

Lexa rolled her eyes before letting herself be engulfed in a tight hug from Octavia.

“You okay?”

Lexa nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. 100%.”

“Good. And you didn’t die of boredom?”

“No,” Lexa shook her head. “Not…not at all.”

They were sitting on a bench in the hallway, waiting for a lecture to begin. Not art history, much to Lexa’s dismay – her least favorite class had suddenly become the one she looked most forward to, and that was all thanks to Clarke.

Students passed by, hurrying to their classes, and Octavia was giving Lexa a rundown of the drama that had happened between some of the newer recruits in their team. And she was paying attention, for the most part.

She may have completely forgotten Octavia was talking when Clarke walked by.

Just barely a second of eye contact and a little smile, and Lexa’s mind was blank.

“Lexa. Hey, Lexa?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, why?”

“You seem distracted.”

“No, I’m…I’m fine.”

“No, really,” Octavia pressed. “What is it?”

It would’ve been the best opportunity to tell her about Clarke.

It really would’ve, were it not for the fact that right at that moment, a whole wave of frat boys came around the corner, making as much noise as possible. And then, when they’d passed, class started – and after class, Octavia had to run to meet Lincoln.

She figured she’d have a better opportunity, eventually.

 

* * *

 

Lexa didn’t notice Lincoln’s car was parked near hers when she walked up to it. She was more focused on the fact that Clarke was supposed to meet her – they were going to go spend the evening at Clarke's place, have some dinner, maybe a movie. She was supposed to spend the night, too. 

Clarke was already by her car, waiting with a smile on her face.

There was barely anyone in the parking lot. Lexa had noted this, and considered a kiss – but, being unsure as to whether Clarke was okay with that, had figured she shouldn’t.

Clarke, on the other hand, was more than receptive to the idea. She saw Lexa’s hesitation, recognized the shy smile, and with a soft ‘hey’, she pulled her closer and kissed her.

She barely knew anyone at school anyway. It wasn’t like she cared who saw. Lexa was her girlfriend, and even though it made her a little nervous, she wanted nothing more than to show it to the world. Or the one lonely freshman getting into his car at the end of the lot.

Neither of them saw Octavia and Lincoln, nor did they see the shocked expression on Octavia’s face – they drove off, happy as could be, and completely unaware that Octavia had just seen…well, everything.

She was shocked.

And offended.

Lexa hadn’t told her, and she, for the life of her, didn’t understand why.

And, to top it all off, she felt bad.

She’d gossiped about the girl Lexa was seeing. She hadn't said anything particularly mean, but she knew that if she'd known the girl was Lexa's...well, something, she would've acted differently.

“Didn’t expect that,” Lincoln chuckled, glancing at Octavia. “Hey, you ok?”

“I-“ Octavia frowned. “I don’t know.”

She was ashamed, she was angry – not furious, she could never be furious with Lexa, but she was irked. And the fact that she felt ashamed also added to her overall uncomfortable feeling.

When she grabbed her phone, she didn’t text Lexa, though for a brief moment she considered doing so. No, she texted Costia instead, but the response she got was nowhere near what she’d have wanted to hear.

**(Octavia, 4:23 p.m.)**

_I just found out who Lexa’s mystery girl is._

**(Costia, 4:24 p.m.)**

_She told you then?_

Octavia stared at the text for a long while before calling Costia.

“What do you mean _then_? Did you know?”

There was only a brief moment of hesitation before Costia replied.

“Yeah, I- Lexa told me, last week. And she told me not to tell you, she wanted to tell you herself-“

“She didn’t _tell_ me, though,” Octavia interrupted. “I just saw her, and Clarke Griffin, kissing in the parking lot. And then driving off.”

Costia’s voice was quieter than normal. “That’s…shitty. I’m sorry, O.”

“No, I- you should’ve told me.”

“I promised Lexa I wouldn’t.”

“Since when do we keep secrets?” Octavia groaned, resting her head back against her seat, drawing a briefly worried look from Lincoln. “Since when does Lexa keep bailing on us, week after week, and she won’t even tell us why-“

“Probably because of Clarke,” Costia sighed. “Listen, it’s…it is what it is. And I guess you should talk to her-“

“Later,” Octavia said curtly. “I…I don’t like this, Cos.”

“I don’t either,” Costia muttered. “But it’s not like we have any right to tell her _not_ to date her-“

“I didn’t say I wanted to do that. I’d never-”

“I know you don’t. Wouldn't.”

“But that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“What exactly don’t you like?” Costia asked. On her end, she was a little confused – she may have been able to understand why she wasn’t a fan, but she couldn’t see any reason as to why Octavia wouldn’t be happy, or neutral at the very least.

“Things are changing,” Octavia said quietly, almost choking on her words. “That’s what I don’t like.”

“They won’t change,O,” Costia sighed. “Believe me.”

“But they already have.”

“What do you mean?”

“When was the last time Lexa was herself around us? Do you remember? Because I don’t.”

“You should talk to her about this, not me.”

Octavia let out a frustrated sigh. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll go over later.”

 

* * *

 

“You kissed me.”

Clarke gave Lexa a quizzical look. “What?”

“In the parking lot.”

They’d only been driving for maybe five minutes, during which Lexa hadn’t said much of anything. She’d just given Clarke weird looks, confusing her and making her feel a little strange.

“I did…” Clarke began. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Lexa shrugged, letting out a laugh and doing her best to focus on the road and not Clarke. “It felt nice.”

“You’re blushing.”

She didn’t have to look at Clarke to know she was smiling.

 “I didn’t think you’d want to do any public stuff,” Lexa shrugged, trying her best to act cool. “I would’ve kissed you first, otherwise.”

“I- I don’t care, really,” Clarke sighed. “I guess I’ll have to come out eventually, right?”

“Huh?”

“As your girlfriend,” Clarke clarified. “Not as bi, I’m friends with no one at school so it’s not like anyone would care-“

“They would,” Lexa tried, knowing it was no use. “Raven would? She knows, right?”

“She knows we’re dating,” Clarke laughed. “She probably smelled the bi vibes off of me from a mile away, or would have if she hadn’t heard the dumb rumors Finn was spreading…”

“Idiotic rumors,” Lexa corrected her. “And completely untrue.”

“You don’t have to convince me, babe.”

The noise that escaped Lexa then surprised them both – a squeal of sorts, one which shocked Lexa more than it did Clarke. It was only by Clarke’s quick reflexes that the car didn’t swerve into the oncoming lane, and after that brief heart attack of a moment, they were both left even more stunned.

“What…on earth…was _that?_ ”

Lexa let out a groan. “Nothing, I- can you just, I don’t know…stop being so cute. For _five minutes,_ I don’t know what’s going on but you’re being really sweet and I- I need to focus. Till we get to your house, I don’t want to get into an accident…okay?”

Clarke bit her tongue to keep herself from laughing, and nodded. “I’ll be quiet.”

“I didn’t mean that-“

“No, I think I need to be,” Clarke laughed. “Because I honestly can’t stop myself.”

She was having a good day. It was almost as simple as that. She was comfortable, she was happy, and she was going to be spending the rest of her day with Lexa – nothing could’ve really topped that. Except she’d been having a good day these past few days, and it just felt…liberating.

The second they pulled up in the driveway and the car stopped, Clarke pulled Lexa in for another kiss.

“Seriously, _what_ is going on?” Lexa asked, but Clarke only smirked before getting out of the car.

“Clarke? Come on, tell me,” she kept on, as she followed Clarke to the door and in to the house. “You look like you have a secret that you’re keeping.”

“No secret, I promise,” Clarke chuckled. “I just…I feel good.”

“That’s great, but you’re saying all these things and you _kissed_ me at school-“

“I’m just happy you’re my girlfriend, that’s all.”

In all honesty, it took all Lexa had to not stumble.

“ _That’s all?_ ” she repeated, feigning offense, teasing Clarke enough to get her to nudge her a little.

“Shut up.”

She couldn’t stop smiling, that much was obvious. And she looked so pretty with the afternoon sun in her hair – pretty enough to take Lexa’s breath away.

“You, in a good mood,” she began, pulling on Clarke’s hips to get her closer, “Is amazing. I _love_ seeing you like this.”

“All thanks to you, babe.”

This time, Lexa wasn’t quite as surprised to hear it as she was the first time. But her eyes did widen again, enough for Clarke to catch it and laugh.

“Why do you look so surprised?”

“You…you called me babe. That’s twice, in an hour.”

“…and?”

“You haven’t called me that before.”

“I know,” Clarke sighed, wrapping her arms around Lexa and pulling her close. “But now I do.”

“Huh. I somehow pegged you down as someone who doesn’t like cheesy nicknames like that.”

“Shush.”

"I love it though."

" _Shush."_

Even the kisses felt different. Deeper, slower, somehow more determined; Lexa felt like Clarke was holding her, and in _no way_ did she have a problem with it. She let herself melt into Clarke’s touch, and noticed the pleased hum that left Clarke’s throat when she felt Lexa relax in her arms – when Lexa found herself being turned around and gently pinned against the wall, she couldn’t help but let out a little moan.

It felt like it was going somewhere. Like _Clarke_ was leading it…somewhere.

But then, her stomach growled, so loud Clarke had to stop and ask her if she was hungry. When Lexa shook her head no and sought out her lips again, Clarke almost gave in – but then, Lexa’s stomach growled again.

“Okay, you need to eat,” Clarke laughed, pulling away for good.

“I don’t want to.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Yeah, I do,” Lexa sighed. “But only if you promise we’ll pick up right where we started.”

Clarke looked at Lexa for a long while before smiling. “What makes you think I’d finish there?”

Lexa laughed and walked past her, trying her best not to completely lose her train of thought after what Clarke had said. It really did feel like Clarke was leading it somewhere, towards something they hadn’t done yet – and that, no matter how many times Lexa may have imagined it, was something she didn’t even know what to expect of.

They ate leftovers of a salad Abby had made the day before, and throughout the meal Lexa felt jumpy. She felt jumpy but also calm, comfortable and yet somehow slightly not at ease; she was anxious, that was the gist of it, she felt like something was about to happen and she was more than all for it.

And so when they ended up on Clarke’s bed with Lexa in Clarke’s lap, she had to stop and ask.

“Something’s different,” she began, catching her breath and trying to shake off the dizziness Clarke’s tongue in her mouth always seemed to induce.

“Oh?”

“Not bad different,” Lexa continued. “You’re…I don’t know how to describe it. You’re in an amazing mood and you’re…I don’t even know.”

Clarke looked briefly into Lexa’s eyes before looking away. “You’re not wrong,” she began, trying to figure out how to phrase exactly how she was feeling. “I…I’m comfortable.”

They’d had long hours, days even, of cuddling and touching and intimacy of all sorts. There’d been kisses, so many kisses; hugs, embraces, sitting in each other’s laps, whispered good night’s…and it had all, in it’s own way, helped build the trust that Clarke now felt with Lexa. A trust, a level of comfort where she felt like she could truly be herself around Lexa.

Not to mention she was getting to the point where she just _couldn’t_ control herself anymore.

She wanted Lexa. That was the simplest way she could put it.

But she wasn’t so sure how she was to tell Lexa that.

No matter how certain she may have rationally been about Lexa’s willingness, she was still wounded. The Clarke of three years prior would’ve never been as afraid of rejection as what the Clarke of now was; though she wanted more than anything to ask, she just…couldn’t, simply for the fear of being rejected.

“Clarke?”

“Huh?”

“You look like you have a massive headache,” Lexa said, eyeing her carefully. “You okay?”

Clarke let out a nervous laugh. “I am, I promise. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

Lexa was so gentle. So patient, sitting in her lap, not demanding anything, just…waiting.

Her thumb was absent-mindedly stroking Clarke’s arm, in a gesture that was so simple and yet so overwhelmingly intimate it was all Clarke could really think of.

“I…”

Lexa really wasn’t sure what was going to come out of Clarke’s mouth. It could have been anything, and so, she unknowingly prepared for the worst.

“I want to have sex.”

Even though Lexa had half suspected it, hearing it, in actual words, was surprising to say the least. Suddenly the ball was in her court – it was up to her to say yes or no or later.

If she said yes, she could be having sex with the girl of her dreams within minutes.

She knew she’d never outright say no.

But the thought that they could move on to having sex right there and then, it just…it came so quickly.

Clarke was watching her, nervously, worried about the silence that really hadn’t been that long – barely a second, really, but it felt like much more than that.

“Now?”

“I mean…any time? I just meant it’s, I guess, on the table now? That you don’t have to worry about not going too far, I’m comfortable, I think…”

“You think?”

“I’m sure.”

Admitting it was the most nerve-wracking thing Clarke had done in a while.

And Lexa hadn’t even told her yes or no yet.

Her hands were burning to touch Lexa in a different way, but for now, she kept them perfectly still at her waist.

But then Lexa shifted in her lap, turned so that she straddled her hips and gently cupped her face with both hands, moving slowly and yet so determinedly Clarke lost her breath for a second. And the kiss, it was soft, just barely touching, before Lexa pulled away and smiled.

“I’m glad you feel comfortable enough,” she said. And then, with a nervous laugh, she added: “Did you mean like, have sex now?”

Clarke shrugged.

She did want to.

So much she almost ached.

“I mean…if you want?”

Lexa nodded, kissed Clarke again, and then smiled. “I do…let’s just keep kissing and see where that ends up.”

Somehow, she managed to make it less awkward. And Clarke was so glad to get the talking out of the way.

She was more than happy to focus more on Lexa, on kissing her and pulling her close. She was more than happy to slide her hands down to Lexa’s perfect ass and pull her hips closer, she was more than happy to let it get a little more desperate and a little more demanding than she would’ve previously allowed herself to get.

It didn’t take her long to get turned on beyond reason.

Lexa, on the other hand, already had trouble keeping herself composed from the moment Clarke started kissing her. It was like Clarke was fully there for the first time, demanding and thirsty for her, for her to be closer, and the way she openly expressed her desire in every touch and kiss just…made Lexa’s head spin.

And it added to the growing heat between her legs that was making her more desperate by the minute.

She’d waited, patiently as could be, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been aching for Clarke, physically and sexually and in all such things – and now, in a situation where she was possibly about to get touched by Clarke in places she’d only dreamed of her touching, where she was possibly about to see Clarke in ways she hadn’t yet…it was intoxicating.

Clarke’s hand was on her stomach, under her shirt, as if waiting for permission.

Without thinking much more of it, Lexa pulled her shirt off. The expression on Clarke’s face, of awe and admiration and pure lust when she saw her naked torso, was enough to drive Lexa even more crazy – it had only been a few minutes, and she was already dying to get off.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

In Clarke’s eyes, that’s exactly what Lexa was. Slender with the most beautiful slight dip of a waist, breasts just barely concealed in a pale lilac bralette that complemented her skin tone beautifully; her abs, just slightly showing, somehow only added to her feminine beauty. Her hair partially draped over her shoulder, the dip of her collarbones, her soft skin just  _begging_ to be kissed...

She looked strong, and yet so...soft. Beautiful.

And so immensely desirable Clarke couldn’t take it.

“Do you want me to take the bra off, too?”

Clarke gave Lexa a look. “You really have to ask that?”

Lexa just smirked as she made quick work of removing her bra and exposed herself completely.

She didn’t feel as naked with Clarke as she could have. Even with Clarke looking at her, she didn’t feel weird; she felt admired.

And that just made her feel beautiful more than any compliment ever could have.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Clarke sighed, hands sliding around Lexa’s waist and up to her breasts.

“You’re so cute,” Lexa chuckled, kissing her lightly before wrapping her arms around Clarke’s neck. “And beautiful.”

“Maybe,” Clarke murmured, flipping Lexa over in one quick move so she was on her back under her. “But you're more.”

She didn’t give Lexa much of a chance to complain, really.

Not that Lexa cared, because what happened next quite literally erased her mind completely of anything other than _Clarke._

Kissing, tongue, moans and breathed whispers; Clarke’s hands roaming her body, Clarke’s body on hers, it all felt so good and yet Lexa wanted more – she wanted naked skin against hers, wanted and _needed_ it, but didn’t know how to ask for it.

Luckily, she didn’t have to.

Clarke noticed Lexa’s hands moving under her shirt, and, on a whim, decided to just take it off.

She sat back up, looked down at Lexa for a while, just completely overwhelmed that she was _there_ , more than willing, and hers.

The look in Lexa’s eyes after she’d taken off her shirt and bra in one swift movement was even more overwhelming.

Clarke wasn’t so sure when she’d last been so purely and unabashedly desired and admired by anyone. But it felt good.

Lexa sat up as well, eyes transfixed on the beauty Clarke had just unveiled before her eyes; she didn’t know her mouth was slightly open, didn’t know how completely hypnotized she looked, but Clarke, well…she noticed.

“You can touch them, you know.”

Lexa glanced at Clarke’s face, let out a little ‘hmph’, and then, almost shyly, did touch them. Palm them, hold them and just…felt them in her hands. What began as just her enjoying how Clarke’s breasts felt in her hands and how her now hard nipples felt rolling between her fingers quickly moved to her focusing more on Clarke’s pleasure the second she heard Clarke let slip out a little moan.

Her mouth found it’s way around a nipple as if by accident, and Clarke’s hand came to rest on her head without her even noticing; she was completely enamored, wasn’t thinking much of anything, and just…enjoyed herself.

The feeling and sight of Lexa was enough to get Clarke’s mind racing in all the best ways, and it wasn’t long before she was feeling…well, open. Free, even.

“I want to taste you,” she breathed out, loud enough that Lexa would hear. And she knew Lexa did, because Lexa’s head popped up, mouth and eyes open slightly wide as if surprised.

Surprised, and so clearly aroused as well. Eyes all dark, cheeks pink from excitement, it was the prettiest Clarke had ever seen her – she just couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmingly happy in that moment.

“Really?”

Lexa had to swallow hard when she saw Clarke nod.

“You want me to, babe?”

Lexa almost threw her head back and moaned when she heard Clarke say that.

“I know that’s probably a yes,” Clarke began, her hand bringing Lexa’s face up so she could look at her, “But I…I’d like it if you said it, too.”

“Yes,” Lexa breathed. “I…I want you to.”

“Lay down then.”

The butterflies were back, stronger than ever, when Lexa laid back on the bed. She could barely contain herself when Clarke slowly pulled off her jeans, and didn’t even notice she’d tensed up until Clarke pointed it out.

“You’re tense, Lexa,” she said softly, hand resting on her thigh. “You sure you’re comfortable?”

“I am, I promise,” Lexa mumbled, feeling very open and vulnerable.

Clarke could tell, too. Though she would’ve liked to just go straight in, she wanted Lexa to be comfortable first. And so she laid down beside Lexa, and focused first on getting her to relax. Kisses and gentle touches, anything she could to keep Lexa aroused but also relax her at the same time.

Her hand didn’t go anywhere near Lexa’s panties until Lexa grabbed it and led it there.

“Needy, huh,” Clarke teased, drawing an exasperated moan from Lexa.

“Please.”

She was wetter than Clarke could’ve ever imagined. Hot and wet and _so ready_ that just the first touch had her hips bucking a little. And the wetness, it felt so good Clarke couldn’t think at first; it was a feeling so beyond intoxicating she couldn’t even come up with words.

All she did was tease her at first. Touch her clit gently, rub it and then leave it, making Lexa desperate without even realizing; and the wetness that she’d initially thought to be a lot seemed to only grow and grow the more she touched her.

“Oh my god, Clarke,” Lexa finally groaned. “Don’t make me wait any more, I can’t-“

That was what Clarke had been waiting for. Lexa was now soaked and completely ready, comfortable enough, and practically begging for her to go down; it was a moment better than any other.

The panties were gone so quickly Clarke wouldn’t have been able to say what color or pattern they were – they were not the main focus, anyway.

When she’d gotten the panties off, Lexa spread her legs without thinking, without having to be asked or nudged to.

_Holy fuck_ , Clarke thought to herself, eyes wide in surprise and complete awe of the sight before her. _How did I ever get her?_

She would’ve spent much longer just admiring and taking her time, but Lexa’s hand just gently nudged her head down, and Clarke was more than happy to oblige.

Her taste was nothing like what Clarke had imagined.

It was better.

And the feeling of it all…it was beyond words, beyond description. It just…it felt amazing. Lexa under her, her pussy against her mouth, her wetness and her hips moving just slightly to seek out better touches, to seek out attention where she needed it most; watching and feeling and _hearing_ Lexa unravel because of her was better than anything Clarke could have ever asked for.

She did not feel wrong, or perverted, or like she was taking advantage – she’d thought that for a long time, but in the moment, none of those thoughts came knocking. All she felt was the desire to pleasure Lexa, to get her off in the best of ways and to make her feel good – and that, well, it felt pure. And good. Healthy, even, there were none of the bad feelings she’d associated with sex since Finn.

There were breathed out pleas from Lexa’s lips, her fingers tightening in Clarke’s hair, and an amount of time that was neither too long or too short. Lexa was caught up in her own head, and Clarke was caught up in her pleasure.

At some point, Clarke slid one finger in, tentatively – and when Lexa’s response was a louder moan, she slid in another, and curled them, making Lexa’s hips buck as a different layer of pleasure was added to what was already blowing her mind. When Lexa’s moans turned in to soft repeats of ‘yes, right there’ and ‘oh yes’, Clarke picked up her pace and did not stop or hesitate. She listened and reacted to how Lexa’s body moved, heard Lexa’s breaths get shallower and quicker. She couldn’t keep rhythm with her fingers inside her, and so let them be and focused more on her mouth sucking and toying with her clit.

Lexa was so close she knew she was just a breath away from coming. She’d never had it be this easy with someone new, never had she been so easily pleasured by someone on the first go – but Clarke, well…she either knew what she was doing, or had very good instincts.

Either way, Lexa was on cloud nine, just _trying_ to come, to get off. Everything felt amazing, she was teetering on the edge, so close but not quite just there. It wasn’t until she looked down and _saw_ Clarke between her legs that she climaxed. Hard, quick, almost as a surprise – she hadn’t expected the sight of Clarke between her legs to affect her so much in the moment, but really, it did.

She threw her head back, hands grasping at her own breasts, toes curled, and just…let go. Saw stars, felt the wave of pleasure hit her like a wall; for a long while, she just laid there, eyes closed, trying to remember how to breathe.

The emotional side of it all was what really hit her.

Everything was just…so perfect.

Clarke had stopped when she’d come, but was yet to come back up. When Lexa looked down, she saw Clarke laying there, between her legs, head resting against her thigh, a soft smile on her face. 

A smug smile at that.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Lexa was still very much woozy and overwhelmingly relaxed, and could only manage a weak laugh in response to that. “You’re…good.”

Clarke chuckled, climbing over her. “Really now?”

Lexa looked dazed.

And truly beautiful.

“Amazing,” Lexa sighed. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

She tasted herself off of Clarke’s lips, and it was amazing.

“Now’s your turn,” Lexa said, grinning a little. “If you want.”

The fact that Lexa was making it easy for Clarke to say she didn’t want to get off or be pleasured made Clarke feel…touched. She seemed to understand her even without Clarke having to explain.

Some other day, she may have said she was good.

But seeing Lexa come, _making_ her come…it had made her ache, too.

And the thought of Lexa helping her out with that situation, well…it turned her on.

A lot.

“I do want my turn,” Clarke said quietly. “But there’s no rush…let’s just lay here for a little while, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued...
> 
> had to cut off there because it's getting late and the smut scene turned out to be bigger than i thought.....till next week, my lovelies!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i'm moderately drunk atm and was drunk while editing so i hope this is coherent enough
> 
> it should be, i wrote most of this earlier but y'know sometimes getting coffee with a friends ends up being drinks at a bar with multiple people and you end up stumbling home drunk way later than you thought
> 
> anyway, clexa's cute, there's still some smut in this one, and plot

_“I do want my turn,” Clarke said quietly. “But there’s no rush…let’s just lay here for a little while, okay?”_

It wasn’t a very long while, really.

Lexa may have been feeling overwhelmingly relaxed and slightly drowsy, but there was a nagging desire at the back of her mind – it didn’t feel right that she was feeling this good, and she hadn’t yet given Clarke a chance at feeling the same.

She didn’t outright ask. She didn’t feel like breaking the silence, not just yet; Clarke was laying partially on her, still topless, her body feeling absolutely amazing against her own. She was still, relaxed, and just…quiet.

When Lexa’s fingertips started trailing along her skin, however, she let out a moan. A quiet sigh turned moan, really, and moved in a way that just made Lexa lose her mind a little – she hadn’t expected to have that much an effect on her with such a gentle touch.

She didn’t stop, either. And Clarke said nothing as she laid there, eyes fluttered shut, just focusing on the softest of touches from Lexa’s fingertips; she was tracing her skin so gingerly, so softly, and Clarke just…couldn’t help but smile.

It also made her body react in ways that she really did not mind at that moment.

At first, Lexa’s touches were aimless, but as she learned what made Clarke move and moan more, she became more determined with what she did; tracing her fingers up along Clarke’s spine produced such delicious little moans and a slight movement of her hip that Lexa simply could not keep her hands away.

“You’re turning me on,” Clarke murmured, still not looking up at her. “I hope you know that.”

Lexa nodded, and smiled to herself. “Good.”

A while longer, and Clarke was putty in her hands. Relaxed beyond reason, more than happy to have Lexa touching her, and just… _so_ turned on.

She didn’t even know what it was. Lexa’s fingertips touching the nape of her neck really shouldn’t have gotten her as wet as they did; her hands running along her sides really shouldn’t have made her moan the way they did.

But they did so nevertheless, and Clarke really _did_ _not_ care whether it was weird or not. It just felt good.

At some point, she raised her head and moved up enough so that she could kiss Lexa. First slow, but then with growing intensity, it wasn’t long before Lexa voiced the question Clarke knew she’d been thinking of for a moment or two.

“You ready for your turn?”

Clarke smiled, and nodded. “Stop being so cute.”

And then, she added: “And yes. I am.”

They may have only been learning how to speak to one another in such an intimate situation, but even their fumbled attempts managed to turn them on. The anticipation of it all only heightened the intensity of everything; when Lexa’s hand slid along Clarke’s stomach down to the waistband of her pants, Clarke could only barely breathe, and when she undid the button and got just inches from her pussy, Clarke only heard the little sighed moan she let out. Nothing else existed, really. Just her touch, and her voice, her eyes shining with excitement as she leaned in to kiss her while her hand slipped into her panties…

Clarke wasn’t surprised to find she was wet. Lexa, on the other hand, was.

And the little ‘oh’ she let slip made Clarke chuckle.

“Surprised?”

“You’re so wet…” Lexa said quietly, licking her lips. “Can you- can you lay on your back? Please?”

The fact that she was suddenly so shy and yet so needy was overwhelmingly cute to Clarke. It was almost as if Lexa was afraid to tell her what to do.

In truth, that was exactly what she was. Afraid, or unsure, of telling Clarke what to do.

With other girls, she’d taken charge because she’d felt like that had been expected of her.

With Clarke, she hadn’t felt that expectation, and had instead discovered that she preferred not being on top; Clarke taking that role so smoothly had only made Lexa even more aware of how _different_ she was, in all the best ways.

Clarke laid back, and helped Lexa take off her pants. Left only in her panties, she had a brief moment of nervousness – but she pushed that down, and focused more on the sight before her, and allowed the visual of Lexa laying down to get her head between her legs to relax her.

It was such an arousing sight she really didn’t have to try very hard to relax.

Lexa’s attention was all on Clarke. Even though her mind was half gone the second she got her mouth _on_ her, she still focused entirely on Clarke; her reactions, her noises, the way she moved, all of it, half worried she wouldn’t like it – for some reason, she was more nervous than ever of her performance. Maybe it was because she wanted so much for it to work, or maybe it was because she just cared so much for Clarke and wanted everything to be perfect, or some combination of the two, but she definitely felt a hint of nervousness in the back of her mind.

When she saw Clarke throw her head back, she relaxed; when Clarke’s hand came to the back of her head and her fingers laced through her hair, Lexa felt a rush of pleasure.

What at first began as a slight tight grip in her hair soon grew to Clarke pushing her down, not much, but just enough that Lexa could relax and just focus on pleasuring her. She knew by Clarke’s hand in her hair if she needed to move, or not move.

And by her noises, too.

Little sighs. And moans.

The first time Lexa heard her name, she wasn’t sure she was right.

The second time she heard it, she was certain of it.

“ _Yes, Lexa.”_

The softest, quietest, just _barely_ audible little moan. And yet, it drove Lexa crazy to hear it; it felt so inexplicably good to hear Clarke say just those two little words she couldn’t even believe it.

She didn’t know it, but she’d moaned into Clarke when she’d heard it. And that sensation, coupled by her muffled moan, only added to Clarke’s pleasure in the best of ways.

Her fingers in Lexa’s hair tightened, and she truly wished she could climax right there and then.

She’d been on the edge for a long while now, just _inches_ from an orgasm, but could not tip over. Nothing seemed to help, though Lexa’s mouth on her felt absolutely perfect, it felt like there was something blocking her, blocking her mind – though she wanted nothing more than to come, she simply couldn’t.

And as time passed, she became more and more aware of how long it was taking. And the more aware she got, the less her focus was on relaxing, and before long the moment had passed.

She tugged at Lexa’s hair, and Lexa stopped, looking up in confusion.

“Are you okay?” was the first thing out of her mouth.

Clarke just sighed, feeling disappointed. “I…I don’t think I can come, right now.”

“Am I not doing it right?”

Clarke shook her head, and offered a little smile. “No, you’re being _perfect_ , but it’s…sometimes I can’t come this way.”

Lexa nodded. “That’s okay. You want me to come back up?”

Clarke nodded, too, and couldn’t help but be bewildered by how casual Lexa was being – she didn’t seem annoyed, or hurt, or anything of the like; she was only concerned with Clarke, it seemed, and that made Clarke feel…good.

 “I don’t know what happened,” she muttered, hiding her face with her hand, feeling embarrassed, feeling like she’d laugh from just how weird it was. “I- I can usually get off on oral, but I just- I don’t know.”

She was frustrated, even if only a little.

“Hey,” Lexa said quietly, her hand reaching for Clarke’s and pulling it away from her face to give her a kiss instead. “It’s okay. Maybe it was a bit too open and vulnerable for now. We can stop-“

Clarke really did want to finish, though. And having Lexa up close to her again, it made her feel less open, less vulnerable; she felt comfortable again, and that gave her an idea.

She kissed Lexa again, this time a little deeper, and once they’d parted, sighed: “I don’t want to stop, though.”

Lexa frowned, but only for a brief moment, because the next thing she knew, Clarke’s hand was guiding hers.

_Oh_.

“Then I won’t,” she managed to reply, with her voice miraculously not even shaking a little when she touched the wetness between Clarke’s legs again. “Only if you tell me to.”

Clarke didn’t say anything, just brought her hand back up to pull Lexa’s face closer, leaving Lexa’s hand to it’s own devices. And Lexa, well…she didn’t have anything against that.

There was a lot of kissing, a lot of tongue, and, eventually, a lot of moans. Clarke could immediately tell the difference; with Lexa closer to her, her body against hers, her face up there right in front of hers, she felt more able to relax. And the kissing, Lexa’s body there to touch, that heightened her pleasure infinitely. And the way Lexa’s fingers curled inside of her while her thumb touched her clit…it really did not take long till she was right where they’d been a while ago, but this time, she had no trouble tipping over.

She may have moaned out an ‘oh my _god_ ’ that made Lexa’s head spin when she came. Her legs may have shook, her toes definitely curled, and she just…held on to Lexa in a way that made Lexa want to stay there forever.

When she opened her eyes, they were beautifully dark and bright. Her lips were swollen, and the look on her face was that of just pure…awe.

“That was…nice,” she breathed out, kissing Lexa again. “Really nice.”

Lexa brought her hand back up, mesmerized by the wetness coating her fingers. Clarke looked at her for a second, and then, head still spinning and feeling a little drunk, she let slip a few words she regretted immediately.

“You gonna lick them clean, or what?”

She saw Lexa’s eyes widen, and immediately thought it had been way too much. But then she saw a little smirk creep onto Lexa’s lips, and then the next thing she saw was Lexa, sucking her taste off of her fingers.

It was only barely that she avoided blacking out.

“I-“ Clarke stammered, unable to get that image out of her head even long after Lexa had finished. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it…”

“Why not?” Lexa smirked, enjoying the fact that she’d managed to make Clarke speechless for once. “I do like your taste…”

Clarke just groaned. “If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna have to fuck you again, I- you’re driving me crazy, Lexa.”

Lexa looked at Clarke for a while, then shrugged. “What makes you think I’d say no to that?”

 

* * *

 

“Lexa’s not here.”

Octavia sighed. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

Anya hesitated a little. “She’s…out.”

“With her girlfriend?”

“Oh, so you know?” Anya asked, slightly relieved. “Then yeah. She won’t be here till tomorrow morning.”

Octavia let out another sigh. “That’s fair. Well, thanks anyway…I’ll call her tomorrow then.”

“Yeah, she’s gotten real crappy about answering her phone,” Anya chuckled. “But you get it, she’s just so smitten with Clarke…”

Octavia laughed, pretending she did get it. Which she didn’t, of course, because Lexa hadn’t actually told her – she didn’t know how smitten she was, or that Clarke was the reason Lexa nowadays could go a whole day without picking her phone up once.

Bitterly disappointed that she had to wait another day to talk, she headed back to Lincoln’s.

 

* * *

 

The last thing Lexa wanted to do the next morning was get up.

She was in heaven. Clarke laid behind her, naked and warm and just feeling perfect against her, her arm draped over Lexa’s waist, steady breaths lightly tickling Lexa’s neck telling her Clarke was still asleep.

She felt closer to Clarke now, in all the best ways. Intimacy felt more intense now, and even just being there, laying with Clarke, naked in her bed…it felt intensely intimate. And that was only good.

But she had a lecture.

Clarke didn’t.

And so, after a long while of stretching out the inevitable, she got up.

Or tried to, anyway. The second she made a move to getting up, Clarke’s arm around her waist tightened, and she heard the faintest ‘no don’t go’ – enough to make her heart ache, really.

“I have a lecture.”

“But you’re so warm…”

Lexa wriggled herself out of Clarke’s grasp though she definitely did not want to, and turned around to give her an apologetic look. “I’ll see you later in art history.”

“You should skip class,” Clarke yawned, sitting up a little. “Stay here with me.”

“I wish.”

“We could have fun.”

“What kind of fun?”

Clarke’s eyes ran along Lexa’s body in a way that left no doubt about what kind of fun she was thinking about.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

In the end, the competition really wasn’t fair. Clarke versus a boring class on demographic studies? Clarke was the obvious winner, that was very clear when the clock struck 9 and Lexa, instead of sitting in a lecture hall, was riding Clarke’s fingers in her lap and gasping for air.

“I _really_ have to go now, though,” Lexa insisted when it was half past nine, hair now extra mussed and cheeks now very pink. “I can’t miss the next class.”

“Fine,” Clarke sighed. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’m not going to be able to focus,” Lexa muttered as she looked for her jeans. “Your fault.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago…”

Lexa just laughed.

“I’m stealing your hoodie today,” she decided, grabbing a hoodie of Clarke’s that she had been eyeing for a while – baby blue with a pink pastel cloud, with ‘bye’ written in block letters on top, it was by far the cutest thing Lexa had ever seen.

Not to mention she couldn’t find her own shirt, so she really did have an excuse to take it.

"Take it, anything you want, it's yours," Clarke hummed, eyes fixed on Lexa as she walked around gathering her clothes.

Once she’d gotten dressed, she headed over to the bed to give Clarke a kiss goodbye.

Two, really.

The first wasn’t enough.

“Now I really gotta go,” she muttered. “I’ll be late.

“Grab a banana or something from the kitchen,” Clarke called after her. “There’s a bowl on the counter-“

The fact that Clarke had thought about Lexa’s breakfast when Lexa hadn’t was somehow overwhelmingly endearing, and she did grab an apple from the bowl before rushing out of the house.

She only barely made it to class, slumping into the seat next to Octavia with a brief ‘hi’ before the professor told everyone to quiet down and focus. And throughout the lecture, Octavia acted strange; where usually she would doodle something on Lexa’s notes when she got bored or whisper funny comments, today she did none of that.

Towards the end of class, though, she slipped a note onto Lexa’s notebook.

_Can we talk somewhere after class?_

Lexa glanced at her, gave her a quizzical look, but Octavia’s expression gave her no indication as to what she meant. And so she just shrugged and nodded, figuring she’d find out soon anyway.

“I saw you, yesterday.”

That was what Octavia finally said, once they’d found an empty classroom and settled there.

Lexa frowned. “What?”

“In the parking lot?”

“Oh,” Lexa said quietly. “With Clarke?”

“Yeah, with Clarke,” Octavia muttered. “Very fun to find out that way that your best friend is dating someone.”

“I- I didn’t tell anyone, though,” Lexa began, but faltered when she remembered she’d told Costia. “Well, I told Cos last week-“

“And you didn’t think you could tell me? Even just a text, Lex, I just- I want to be included. That’s all. And it…” Octavia sighed. “It’s dumb. I’m sorry, I’m glad that you’ve found someone and she’s cute, not that I’d know much about your type since you’ve barely ever dated anyone-“

“O, you’re rambling,” Lexa interrupted. “You okay?”

Octavia took a deep breath before answering. “No, I’m not.”

“Why?”

“ _Because_ ,” she groaned, “Things are changing. You’re different now, Cos has gotten all weird and sad and won’t tell me why, and I just- I feel left out. It just feels like you have your thing and Cos has whatever she’s got going on, and I- I don’t want to be left out.”

Lexa sighed. “O, you’re not being left out. You have Lincoln, and I’m dating Clarke, that’s not really a friend thing-“

“I don’t mean that, that’s totally fine…” Octavia interrupted. “It’s been a month since we last went out together. We used to go out every week, once a week, at least- and then it just changed without warning and I don’t know if you just don’t want to be friends anymore, or what…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I want to be friends with you,” Lexa said quickly. “But I just- I don’t know if I want to be going out so often. I’m just not sure I like partying that much, anymore.”

“We used to have so much fun, though.”

Octavia was sitting on a desk, swinging her legs, staring at her feet with her shoulders slumped. She wasn’t really angry, she was just upset, that much was clear – and Lexa, for the life of her, couldn’t figure out how to console her.

She couldn’t tell her that things would be like they used to be, because she didn’t want things to be like that; she’d been happy with how things had been progressing, at least up until now, but now she was realizing she just hadn’t realized that it wasn’t so simple. She couldn’t just disappear without explaining to her friends why.

How she hadn’t realized it before, she had no idea. But she did realize it there and then that she had to at least talk it out.

“I’m not saying I’ll never go out with you again,” she said gently, giving Octavia’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I just…it’s a lot, everything is, and I need a break.”

“What do you mean, a lot?”

Lexa shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“No, don’t keep more secrets, I don’t- you don’t have to,” Octavia pleaded. “You know I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Lexa hadn’t told anyone yet, really. Clarke, a little, but even she hadn’t heard all of what was going on in her head.

“I…I think I’m going to step down from the Student Body president’s position,” she began, tentatively.

“Okay, that’s drastic,” Octavia nodded. “But I guess it means less work?”

But Lexa wasn’t done.

“And the team.”

Octavia’s eyes went wide. “No.”

“I- it takes up so much of my time, O,” Lexa tried to explain, but Octavia wasn’t hearing it.

“You can’t just quit _everything_ , Lexa, because you got a girlfriend,” Octavia said, trying her best not to sound too mean. “I- the team? But you’re so good at it-“

“Yeah, I’m good at it, but I don’t think I’ve enjoyed it for a while now,” Lexa muttered. She saw Octavia wipe away a tear, and sighed. “I’m not sure yet, though, but…I want time. To myself. To do things I like to do…”

There was nothing Octavia could say to that, really. And she couldn’t be angry about it, either.

But what she did feel was disappointment and sadness, and a nauseating sense of discomfort, and so she stood up and grabbed her bag, intending to leave.

“I- I need to go,” she muttered, pushing past Lexa, only pausing for a moment. “I’m sorry, I’m glad you’re happy and finding things you want to do, but I just- I need to go. I’m just sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Lexa sighed, leaning back as she watched Octavia walk out. “I really am.”

She understood where Octavia was coming from. She knew Octavia wasn’t a fan of change, or of being left out; but in this case, there wasn’t much Lexa could do to change it.

For the first time in a long while, she was being selfish. She wanted time for herself, she wanted control of her own life completely in her own hands – and really, she felt she had full rights to what she wanted. And full freedom to do what she wanted.

She knew to expect confused texts from Costia, too.

_Why is Octavia in a bad mood?_

_Did you fight?_

Lexa had given Costia a brief explanation, and, after a quick ‘ _I’m not happy about this’_ text, all had gone silent.

Later that afternoon, she walked into art history late after an unfairly long wait at the campus café for her tea.

The front row was empty, and in that moment, Lexa really didn’t want to walk down in front of everyone in the class. And there was a free seat next to Clarke.

“Hey, she whispered as she shuffled in to sit by her, “Did I miss anything?”

Clarke shook her head. “No, nothing, he’s been struggling with the computer for 10 minutes now.”

Lexa leaned back and let out a sigh – a long one, long enough to draw Clarke’s attention.

“You okay?”

Lexa shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“What happened?”

And then, Lexa gave Clarke a brief summary of her conversation with Octavia.

“I just…I don’t like it,” she muttered, fiddling with the lid of her mug. “It’s not easy and I wish it was.”

“Maybe she just needs time to adjust.”

“Yeah,” Lexa sighed, lowering her voice as the professor had now started the class. “I just…I just don’t feel totally good right now, you know?”

Clarke’s hand reached over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I do. It’ll be okay.”

She tried to pull her hand away, but Lexa didn’t let her. It was comforting, the touch, and in that moment she needed it; she felt like she’d messed up, big time, and wanted nothing more than to feel less shitty and for everything to just be resolved and okay. And while she couldn’t have that, Clarke’s hand in hers made everything a little bit better.

“You want me to come over later?”

Lexa looked at Clarke, and smiled. “Please. It’d…it’d make me feel better.”

“And we can talk, too. Or not talk. Just relax.”

Lexa nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying to move the plot along without bringing in too much drama or making the drama too unnecessarily extra
> 
> like the feelings of everyone involved are valid in my opinion and they will be resolved in a healthy way after some drama has happened so don't y'all go telling me octavia is being dumb cause she isn't


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: lots of cuddling ahead  
> and emotions  
> it's soft  
> and good  
> but mostly soft

Things were different.

Not just to Lexa, but to everyone around. And she was painstakingly aware of it, too.

When she went over to Indra to discuss quitting the team, she could practically feel Octavia’s glare on the back of her head.

She didn’t quit, not just yet – but she did ask to take a week or two off from practice, and Indra was more than happy to give it. Unlike her teammates, Lexa knew Indra would understand more; she was always encouraging them to focus on school first, the team second, and at that moment, it really did feel like a choice between one or the other.

“I could always use your help in coaching,” she sighed, shrugging a little as she looked over the field. “Takes less time and commitment, but that way not _all_ of my hard work on your training would be wasted.”

And then she smiled a little, and Lexa felt a little better.

But only a little. She was sure people were whispering when she was walking past, she could feel their eyes on her when she walked into classrooms – though she knew it was exaggerated in her head, it was a fact that she was, at the current moment, the talk of the town. How could she not have been? She was the star of the field hockey team, and now she was quitting; she was about to step down as student body president; and, to top it all off, she seemed to have had some sort of a fallout with her friends.

Her friends being the popular crowd of the school, it was a very noticeable fallout. But it wasn’t a fallout, not fully – or, not entirely there, not yet.

But she didn’t feel very good about it, either. It hurt noticing that her friends were keeping their distance, it felt wrong to sit in the back row instead of up front – even with Clarke there, it didn’t feel entirely right.

Things weren’t settled, and that was what Lexa hated most of all.

“You should unclench your jaw.”

Lexa glanced at Clarke, who at the moment was doodling a flower in the margins of her notebook, not even looking at her. “What?”

“You’re all tense,” Clarke whispered, looking at her calmly. “Relax.”

Lexa turned her eyes to the presentation and sighed, making the effort of relaxing her shoulders and unclenching her jaw.

It was only a little something, but it did help.

Having Clarke there was helping her with it all. She didn’t feel alone, even with none of her friends talking to her the same way as before; in fact, in the past week barely anyone had acknowledged her beyond a hurried ‘hey’ in hallways and on the street. But she didn’t feel alone.

Clarke understood. She may not have had experience with Lexa’s exact situation, but a similar one – she understood what it was like to have people whispering about her, to be receiving confusedly curious looks, to feel like you’re being watched by everyone at all times. And she hated watching Lexa go through it.

“Are you sure you want this, with me” was something she’d tried to ask multiple times.

Lexa hadn’t let her go on.

“It’s not about you, you know it isn’t,” she told Clarke. “You only helped me get started. I…I need this.”

And each time, Clarke had smiled, nodded, and, if they’d been alone, given her a kiss.

“I get it.”

 

* * *

 

“You really need to talk to Lexa.”

Octavia sighed. “I don’t want to.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why am _I_ the one who needs to talk to Lexa?” Octavia snapped, looking at Costia pointedly. “Why are _you_ even avoiding her? It’s not like you’re pissed at her for ditching everything, you’ve barely spoken to her for weeks.”

Costia almost said something, but, choosing not to, fell silent.

That only confused Octavia more. “Why are you avoiding her, anyway?”

When Costia remained silent, Octavia realized there was an actual reason, and that it wasn't just because she'd sided with her.

“Cos…?”

“It’s nothing,” Costia muttered, looking away at the field and kicking her feet in the air. “Nothing…”

Octavia sighed. “Now you’re keeping secrets, too.”

“It’s not a secret,” Costia said quietly.

“Then what is it?”

“I-“

Costia’s eyes searched for somewhere else to look, for some focal point to focus on, anything but Octavia and her now worried expression. But she found nothing, and suddenly felt choked up – it felt impossible, saying it out loud.

But her struggle to say it made it impossibly obvious to Octavia, whose eyes suddenly widened in realization.

“Oh, Cos…you _still_ have a crush? I thought you were over that years ago.”

Her voice was gentle, understanding – all her annoyance and anger was gone, and now all she felt was concern and pity for her friend.

“I was, but it- it came back, a few months ago, and it just- god, it sucks.”

She kicked the air again, and sighed.

“I’m so sorry,” Octavia said quietly, reaching over to give her a little half-hug. “It must really suck, seeing her with Clarke.”

“It does,” Costia muttered. “I should’ve said something, but I- I didn’t. And now it’s too late.”

“It’s never too late,” Octavia told her. “Even if it’s just to get resolution.”

At that, Costia frowned. “You want me to go tell Lexa I have a crush on her? Are you for real?”

“I- yeah. Do it.”

“You know it won’t stop Lexa from dating Clarke, right?”

 “I’m not trying to manipulate them into breaking up, I’m not that big of a bitch,” Octavia scoffed, mildly offended. “I just think it might help you to move on.”

“Maybe.”

“Then do it.”

“Only if you talk to Lexa, too.”

Octavia quickly shook her head. “No, I- I don’t feel good about that.”

“You talked once and it only made things worse,” Costia sighed. “Please.”

“Not now.”

Octavia left a moment later, rushing off to class. Costia was left alone.

Usually, she would’ve spent her skip with Lexa. They were both free this period, it had been what they’d planned on doing this semester – but now, Lexa was nowhere to be seen, and things were weird.

After half an hour of pondering on her thoughts, she got a text.

Just a Tinder match, nothing more.

Lately, she'd just ignored them.

But today?

Today, she messaged back.

And later, when Lexa showed up to her last class of the day, she was a little disappointed to find Costia wasn’t there.

She did briefly wonder, considering Costia rarely skipped class, and even sent off a text. When it went unanswered, she pocketed her phone and tried her best to focus, despite the nagging feeling in her gut that something wasn’t exactly right. This was Costia’s favorite class – government studies – and yet, she wasn’t there.

Considering she would’ve shown up while sick, it was a worry that she wasn’t there.

Much later that day, when Lexa was getting ready to go to bed, she got a phone call.

“Cos?”

There was loud music muffled in the background, and laughter and chatter blurring the words of whoever was speaking at first – but then, the noise went away,  as if a door had been closed, and Lexa heard Costia’s voice, clear as day.

And very slurred, too.

“Heyy-“

“Cos, you ok? You missed class today.”

“I went on a date,” came Costia’s response, followed by a giggle that was not her own. “Shh-“

“A date? With who?”

“Not you, sadly,” Costia replied. "Nope..."

She sounded weird.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lexa asked again, feeling worry rise within her. “Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“No, Lex, I- I’m fine.”

A bit of silence, and Costia came clean.

“Well, no, I’m not.”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t want you to come pick me up, Lexx…” Costia sighed. “Seeing you hurts right now.”

“What?”

“You and Clarke, I-“

Costia’s voice broke a little, and Lexa couldn’t help but feel bad when she got an inkling of what she was talking about.

“I liked you, like, a _lot_ , Lexa,” Costia mumbled into the phone, her words making Lexa's chest tighten up with guilt. “And I know I fucked up by not saying anything, and I know I’m making things weird by saying things now, but I just- I hate it. It’s dumb.”

“What’s dumb? My relationship?”

“No, no, nono…” Costia said slowly. “You. You’re fine. Clarke is fine. I’m…I’m just…sad. Yeah. Sad.”

“Sad I’m dating Clarke?”

“Mhmm.”

Costia really sounded, well, not okay. Barely held together, really.

“Please, Cos, where are you,” Lexa begged, grabbing her car keys and heading for the door despite already being in her pjs. “Let me come pick you up. You don’t sound okay.”

“I’m not okay,” Costia agreed, letting out a little groan. “God, why do you have to be so nice? I hate it.”

Then, a moment later, she changed her mind. “No, I don’t hate it. I love it. And I hate that I love it.”

“Where are you?”

“Vertigo.”

Thankfully, the club was only a short drive from Lexa’s house. What was better was that Costia was waiting for Lexa on the street, leaning against a fire hydrant, looking as impatient as ever.

When she sat in the car, she didn’t say much.

“I’m not that drunk,” she finally muttered. “Just…take me home.”

Lexa nodded, and didn’t ask much more. She didn’t ask about the girl Costia had been on a date with and consequently ditched, she didn’t ask Costia about what she’d said, not till they were at her door – she’d insisted on walking her up – and Costia was about to go in.

“You had a crush on me?”

Costia groaned and softly banged her forehead against her door. “Yeah.”

“And you…you didn’t tell me?”

Costia shook her head no.

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to make things weird. 'Cause I know you would've never felt the same way...”

“But I- it can’t have been easy.”

“No…”

Lexa sighed, and offered a smile. “I’m…I’m sorry, Cos.”

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

“You won’t.”

“You sure?”

Lexa nodded. “Yeah.”

But when she left Costia’s place, she was left feeling weird. She felt bad, too, having not noticed that her best friend had a crush on her – she had no idea how much pain she’d caused Costia, and just imagining it made her feel a little sick.

She wanted to talk it out, she really did. She…she needed to.

Anya was at work, but Anya was no longer Lexa’s first choice for someone to talk to.

Clarke was.

And she responded to Lexa’s text immediately, too.

_Mom won’t be home till later, so come over if you want._

The moment Lexa saw Clarke, all she wanted was a hug. And so she stepped in without a word, wrapped her arms around Clarke’s waist, and just…let out a deep breath.

“Rough day?”

“Rough hour,” Lexa muttered, face firmly hidden in Clarke’s neck. “Everything kinda sucks right now.”

“Move back a little, I can’t close the door- there, good. Living room?”

Clarke didn’t say anything till Lexa was done explaining. She just sat there, holding Lexa’s hand, and listened.

“So she had a crush on you.”

Lexa sighed. “And I didn’t notice- how did I not notice?”

Clarke looked at her with a pitiful smile. “Even I noticed. I just thought you- that you were getting over it, or that she was.”

“What? _You_ noticed?”

Clarke let out a laugh. “Lexa, you’re the most oblivious person sometimes. I could tell from the back of the classroom, and you didn’t notice it happening right in front of your face?”

Lexa just frowned. “Shut up.”

“She did the whole thing, hair twirling and laughing too much,” Clarke told her. “Painstakingly obvious.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“I- I didn’t want to seem jealous,” Clarke said, voice quieting down a little.

“Jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“Were you?”

Clarke shrugged. “I- maybe? I thought you were dating at first.”

“What!?”

“That time at the Christmas market, remember? It really seemed like a date, I don’t know…”

Lexa let out a disbelieved laugh and rested her head on Clarke’s shoulder. “That’s…ridiculous.”

She was quiet for a moment, and then added: “I feel so stupid.”

“No, don’t-“

“But I do,” Lexa sighed, cutting Clarke off. “Sorry, I just…I should’ve noticed.”

“But she never said anything.”

“You didn’t even know me or her and you were able to tell.”

“I was looking at it from the outside, babe,” Clarke said quietly. “It’s always harder to see things when they’re right in front of you.”

Her hand was in Lexa’s hair, fingers gently scratching Lexa’s scalp in a way that would’ve calmed her even in her most wound up state.

“I just…it feels weird.”

“I know.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“I know.”

“I mean, you are too, but-“

Clarke laughed and cut Lexa off before she started to ramble on that tangent. “Relax, Lexa, I know she’s your best friend. She’s special in ways that I’m not.”

When Lexa looked up at her and frowned, Clarke shrugged. “I’m your girlfriend, she’s your best friend. Two different things.”

“You’re too good,” Lexa decided, resting her head back down again. “Seriously.”

“Nah, that’s you.”

Lexa was too tired to start playfully arguing, and so she just chuckled and shook her head. When the silence between them persisted for a while, Clarke knew the matter wasn’t yet resolved – Lexa’s mind and heart were heavy for the time being, and there wasn’t much she could do about that.

“Listen,” Clarke finally began, “You’ve been best friends for ages. It’ll be fine, maybe you’ll have a little break and she’ll come back. But it’ll…I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“But what if it isn’t?”

Lexa sounded like she was on the brink of tears, and Clarke couldn’t help but feel a twisting wrench in her heart; she hugged Lexa closer, and kissed her forehead, hoping that would ease how she felt even a little bit.

“It’ll be fine,” she repeated, though she wasn’t sure it would be – but she truly hoped it would.

A while later, Lexa got up to get her bag from the front door, and on her return promptly positioned herself in Clarke’s lap. Clarke had her laptop nearby, and once she saw Lexa was going to start reading, decided to finish up on the second half of a show she’d been watching. There was no need for them to do the same thing; it was calm and quiet, and in that moment, Lexa really needed it. Comforting cuddles, and something to occupy her mind.

She only got half a chapter in before she fell asleep. It was just too cozy with Clarke behind her, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the warmth, her arm lazily draped across her chest…it was, for Lexa’s overworked mind, a welcome relief.

Clarke didn’t notice till much later when the book almost fell from Lexa’s hands. Only almost, because Clarke caught it before it fell, and set it aside without losing the page Lexa had been on. She shifted a little, pulled Lexa a little up, and then took off her reading glasses.

Her show was done, the credits rolling, and she was bored. Just on a whim, after toying with Lexa’s glasses for a while, she tried them on. And then checked herself out using her phone.

And then, the next thing she knew, Lexa’s phone was blowing up with Snapchat notifications from Clarke. Just for when she woke up, an effort to cheer her up in any way she could…not to mention Clarke really, _really_ did not want to wake Lexa up right then.

It was almost midnight when Clarke heard a car door close, and soon enough the front door quietly opened and shut. Lexa was still fast asleep, and so Clarke couldn’t really get up, or warn her mother – but Abby didn’t seem to be surprised when she walked into the living room to find Lexa more or less curled up with her head in Clarke’s lap.

“Oh, sorry,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss Clarke’s forehead. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, Lexa was the only one sleeping,” Clarke replied. She felt a little shy with Lexa there, it being the first time her mother was seeing her with her girlfriend; it did help, though, that Lexa was asleep and proper conversation would have to be put off till the morning.

“Can’t move, huh?”

Clarke just laughed softly, and watched her mother head into the kitchen for a quick bite before bed.

“You two should go to bed, too,” Abby told them as she walked past. “And I’ll make waffles tomorrow morning. You have a class on at 12, right?”

Clarke smiled, and nodded. “Yeah, we’ll…we’ll get up.”

Once her mother had gone upstairs and Clarke had heard her bedroom door shut, Clarke nudged Lexa awake.

“Hey, cutie pie,” she said gently, carefully nudging Lexa’s shoulder. “Lexa.”

“Mmh?”

“Do you wanna head up to bed?”

Lexa yawned and stretched wide, and didn’t say a word – just nodded.

“You’re so cute,” Clarke said, her words ending in a big wide yawn. “Come on.”

Despite Lexa’s head being filled with all sorts of worries, she slept soundly that night. She had no idea Abby was home, she barely knew how she ended up upstairs in Clarke’s bed; all she knew was the gentle comfort Clarke was able to provide so easily, and how much she needed it.

 

* * *

 

Lexa was the first to wake up. Much to her surprise, Clarke was laying in front of her, not behind as usual – she was spooning Clarke, and over her shoulder, Lexa could just see the head of the stuffed raccoon she’d gotten Clarke, tightly held against her chest. It was such a cute sight that she had to hide her face into Clarke’s shoulder and take a few deep breaths before she was able to think properly again.

She could hear someone in the kitchen downstairs, and with a start realized it was most likely Clarke’s mom.

Somehow, even though she’d met Abby on a few occasions, it felt nerve-wracking meeting her for the first time as Clarke’s girlfriend. It was her girlfriend’s mom, after all – it was really supposed to be nerve-wracking.

But for the time being, she was happy to lay there with Clarke.

She dozed off for a while, and was only roused when Clarke woke up. A gentle knock on the door, and then, Abby’s face appeared in the doorway.

“There’s breakfast downstairs, if you’d like some.”

Lexa felt nervous. Clarke even caught her trying to fix her hair in the mirror before heading down, after having to insist that her mother wouldn’t mind her coming down in her pjs. Not that Lexa would’ve had anything to change into, really; she’d come over in her pjs, just sweatpants, a tank top, and a hoodie, and hadn’t brought a change of clothes.

“Come on, the waffles will get cold.”

“Waffles?”

“Yeah, she said yesterday that she’d make waffles.”

“Yesterday?”

Clarke smiled. “You were asleep.”

Lexa couldn’t help but blush a little. “She saw us on the couch?”

“Yeah, I know. Embarrassing.”

Lexa let out a little groan, and let Clarke usher her out of the room and down the stairs towards the delicious scent of fresh waffles and coffee wafting from the kitchen.

Abby was, well…friendly. Not what Lexa would’ve expected, really, and at the same time exactly what made sense; she was casual, kind, and motherly, and did not ask too many questions. She immediately made Lexa feel at ease, and awkward moments of silence were easily moved on from to other topics of conversation.

“I can’t believe you get along with my mom almost better than I do,” Clarke joked at one point, to which Lexa and Abby both laughed. It wasn’t entirely true, but the fact was that Lexa happened to share some interest in Abby’s passions, like certain authors Clarke had never heard of, and baking. That smoothed things along very nicely for Lexa.

“You seem a very nice girl,” Abby had told Lexa when she and Clarke were leaving for class. “I’m glad you two, you know, found each other.”

“God, Mom, stop being so cheesy,” Clarke groaned from the door.

Lexa had just laughed, though in her heart she was more than honoured to have been told that by Abby. Being liked by her girlfriend’s mother was a surprisingly good feeling, one which she really hadn’t known to expect.

Overall, she hadn’t expected to feel so good after the week she’d had. That whole day, she felt good. Even going to school and facing the quizzical looks and whispers, she felt…at home. Like she was on the right path. She had Clarke, everything was going to be okay, she felt at peace with things; she was, really, at ease.

She felt so at ease that, on getting back home for the first time since the night before, she texted Octavia. She’d given her over a week, and that was more than enough.

**(Lexa, 7:19 p.m.)**

_O, we need to talk._

_Can we meet tomorrow at our café?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're just soft cuties and i'm enjoying this soft interlude  
> and cos got to say what she wanted to say? even though it wasn't exactly the best talk, she still got it out. and that's always good.  
> and lexa's a worried bean, which tbh is just cute...
> 
> hope you enjoyed that :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i know it's been a while don't come at me for that, college got intense so now there's no update schedule though i'm aiming on not having terribly long times between updates  
> anyway, this one's cute! have fun

Clarke was feeling anxious. Jittery, unable to settle; she wished for nothing more than that Lexa would text her, but, knowing she was busy, had to settle for distracting herself.

It wasn’t going too well. Three started and discarded sketches lay on the floor, a book remained on her pillow, opened on the first page but not continued onwards; she had Netflix open on her laptop, but didn’t really feel like watching anything.

Lexa was out. Meeting Octavia, she’d said – to talk things out, settle them for good. One way or another.

She was stressed, and Clarke could tell she was worried even though she hadn’t said a thing about it – and now, sitting in her room, Clarke found herself worried as well. She didn’t like the idea of Lexa feeling bad or stressed or anything of the like, in fact she quite hated it; she hated the fact that, in a sense, she felt responsible.

Clarke knew she didn’t need to feel responsible, since in reality she wasn’t – but nevertheless, she did know that her coming into the picture had started all this. And that wasn’t always such a pleasant thought.

And sometimes, on days like the one she was having at that moment, her demons got the best of her.

_Maybe she’ll decide you’re too much work._

She sighed, shook her head, and reached down to pick up a book off the floor. She didn’t have time to entertain those thoughts, not now – not ever, really – but they still sometimes popped up. Sometimes for a brief moment, sometimes for an afternoon or longer.

But she didn’t want to text Lexa. She didn’t want to bother her, not right now; there’d be time to talk later.

 

* * *

 

The wind was bitterly cold. It bit at Lexa’s nose and ears as she made her way to the café, just down the street from Octavia’s house; it served the best vegan burgers in town, and had a whole shelf dedicated to organic teas, so it had quickly become her and Octavia’s own little place to hang out, just the two of them.

It was a weird mashup between a surfer cafe and a subway station, but the aesthetic of it was very Octavia - dynamic and bold. 

Lexa ordered two burgers and a pot of tea before finding a corner table to sit at. They’d agreed to meet at four, and it was only five to – there was still plenty of time for Octavia to show.

In her nervous state, she didn’t even notice that she started tapping her fingers on the table. When she realized what she was doing, she tried to stop – but that only led to her knee bouncing, and so she just resolved on the fact that she felt on edge and had no way to stop it.

When Octavia finally appeared at five past four, Lexa let out a sigh of relief.

At least she showed up.

She looked tense, too.

And anxious. Lexa could tell from the fact that her nail polish had been picked at.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Lexa said, smiling a little. “I got us some food.”

“Oh, damn,” Octavia sighed, slumping down in her seat. “I just ate.”

“Oh,” Lexa sighed, her heart sinking a little. “I should’ve asked, I guess.”

“Yeah, sorry-“

“No, it’s- you can take it in a doggy bag, or something.”         

Octavia nodded, but said nothing.

And Lexa didn’t say anything either, for a little while – she tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t find anything.

“So you left the team.”

Lexa nodded, grateful that at that very moment the food and tea came – she had a moment to distract herself before talking.

“Yeah, I- it was too much.”

“And you’re quitting the student’s union too?”

Again, Lexa nodded. “It’s-“

“Too much, yeah,” Octavia sighed. “I…I’m trying to understand.”

Lexa frowned. “But why should you? It’s my time, why do you care that I’m not student body president anymore?”

Octavia shrugged. “It’s…it doesn’t seem like you. Or, like...you've always done lots of things. And you've excelled at them, you're so good, so I just don't see why you're suddenly not wanting any of that. It just doesn't make sense.”

“But it is me, this is…I feel good about this.”

Octavia was trying, Lexa could see that much - but she could also see that Octavia wasn't happy. And that she really,  _really_ didn't know how to handle herself.

“I just…you feel like a stranger now. And I don’t-“ Octavia shook her head. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t know how to fix that.”

“I- you don’t have to,” Octavia replied, eyes fixed on her cup of tea. “You’re living your life and there isn’t room for me-“

“Yes, there is.”

“No, not- not right now. I practically have to force you into hanging out with me, and I don’t want you to do it out of obligation.”

Lexa was about to reply, but Octavia, having not noticed, continued on.

“I just don’t like feeling like a chore.”

“You’re not a chore, O,” Lexa interrupted, before Octavia had time to say any more. “Trust me. Things are just changing and I need to find a new balance, that’s all.”

“Do you just want me to leave you be?”

“What?”

“Give you space?”

Lexa looked at Octavia for a long while before replying. “Maybe, I don’t know-“

“You do know, you just don’t want to say it.”

Lexa only half knew, really. She knew that at the moment, she was not being a good friend to Octavia; she was right about her having to force her into hanging out, and though Lexa knew she should’ve tried more, she felt too tired to do so. It felt exhausting to even consider hanging out with Octavia, not because she was tiring but because for the moment, Lexa really did feel like she needed her space.

She needed room to figure out the right balance of what she wanted, so that she could then let her friends try and adjust to it. It felt wrong to expect them to adjust before she'd even done so; in a sense, she felt like she needed to be a 'finished' product before she could try and figure out what she wanted from her friendships.

Costia needed her space for reasons, too. Room to heal and get over her crush, and with that Lexa had elected for distance; she was there for her if she needed her, but she didn’t want to reach out to her quite just yet, feeling it wasn’t quite the time yet.

With Octavia, she was now realizing she needed to do the same. A little break. Just so they could both start off from a clean slate.

She told Octavia that, too. The conversation was short and awful, but that was what Lexa expected; she saw Octavia’s shoulders hunch in disappointment when she said she needed a break from her, but she didn’t see any anger – though Octavia was upset, she wasn’t angry.

“I understand,” she said quietly. “I do, but I still…I don’t like it.”

“It’s not permanent,” Lexa had assured her. “It’s just…everything is new.”

Octavia nodded. “Yeah.”

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

“Except for right now.”

Lexa took a deep breath, feeling a jolt of guilt hit her heart – but she shook it off, knowing that Octavia’s words, though hurtful, weren’t meant to be mean.

Octavia left shortly after.

Lexa was left to sit there with two uneaten burgers and a half-full pot of tea, and a slightly bitter taste in her mouth.

_What’s done is done_.

She asked for the burgers to be packed up, and drank as much of the tea as she could before leaving.

She hadn’t intended on going over to Clarke’s that day, but found herself driving there anyway; she had two burgers that needed to be eaten, and an overwhelming need for a hug.

 

* * *

 

“Lexa?” Clarke exclaimed, staring at Lexa with a surprised expression on her face. “What- I thought you had stuff to do at home today.”

“Laundry can wait,” Lexa muttered, “Can I come in? Please?”

Clarke let out a laugh and stepped aside. “As if I’d ever turn you away.”

She wanted to ask Lexa how her meeting with Octavia had gone, but figured she’d let her decide if she wanted to say anything.

She had a fair guess that it hadn't gone well, but still wanted to leave room for Lexa to tell her if she wanted - she didn't want to push her.

“I have food,” Lexa said quietly, raising the paper bag in her hand. “If you want.”

Her voice sounded small. And defeated.

She looked beyond exhausted.

“Are you hungry?” Clarke asked, taking the bag gently from Lexa’s hand and heading to the kitchen.

“Not really,” came Lexa’s reply.

She let out a deep sigh, leaned over the kitchen counter, and buried her head in her hands. “We talked. It…I don’t know how it went.”

“Doesn’t seem like it went very well,” Clarke commented, placing a hand on Lexa’s shoulder. “But you did talk?”

“Yeah, we-“ Lexa stood back up and shook her head. “I feel lost.”

"It'll get better and clearer."

"It just feels...so shitty. And I just- it's so much? I just can't seem to say anything right and I just- I feel like I'm doing the wrong thing."

“I think you’re overthinking things a little,” Clarke said, carefully pulling Lexa closer by her hand. “Give it time. I don't think you're doing the wrong thing.”

“I don’t think I’m friends with Octavia right now.”

“You’ve been friends for years. She’ll come around.”

“But maybe she’s better off not being friends with me-“

“Lexa.”

Lexa paused and looked at Clarke. “What?”

“Don’t even say that,” Clarke told her. “You’re a great friend. You’re a great person.”

“I don’t feel like one right now."

She didn’t say anything, but Clarke could tell Lexa was in desperate need of a hug. And it helped, the hug – warm and comforting and tight in a way that made Lexa’s mind ease a little, relaxed her shoulders and made her smile, even if it was only a little.

When Clarke tried to pull away a moment later, Lexa didn’t let her go.

“You wanna stay like this?”

Lexa just nodded, and so Clarke laughed – she had nothing against hugging Lexa for a few minutes, or longer, if she needed that. It felt amazing – what was there not to like?

When five whole minutes had passed, she did get a little antsy. They could’ve so easily moved to the couch, or even sat down; but Lexa made no move to get out of Clarke’s arms, and so Clarke just sighed, settling her mind on finding something to cheer Lexa up.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to take a bath?”

Lexa considered it for a second, then shook her head and hugged Clarke tighter. “No, I…I’d like to cuddle.”

Clarke let out a little laugh. “No, I meant with me.”

That got Lexa to pull away, just so she could look at Clarke with surprise in her eyes. “What?”

Clarke felt a little funny saying it, but went on anyway. “I just…do you want to take a bath? Together? Relax and all…”

In all honesty, Lexa hadn’t even realized that was an option. She’d seen the bathtub upstairs, yes, but hadn’t thought much more of it.

“I…that sounds nice, actually,” she smiled.

It sounded like exactly what she needed. A quiet time, Clarke there, and hot water to relax her.

“I didn’t bring any clothes, though.”

Clarke smiled. “Mom went into my room a few days ago and cleaned out all the dirty laundry she could find, and some of it was yours. They’re in my closet.”

“Is that where my blue t-shirt went?”

Clarke nodded. “Come on, upstairs we go.”

Lexa was more than happy to let Clarke lead her up the stairs and into the master bathroom. Clarke let her choose what kind of bath they had – there was a whole drawer dedicated to bath products – while she ran the bath and went to get some fresh towels. When she returned, the bathroom was smelling of lavender and lemons, and the bathtub itself was starting to fill with bubbles.

“You have candles?”

Clarke let out a laugh. The amount of times she’d heard Lexa say that was innumerable – being her favorite form of mood lighting, Clarke had quickly learned that candles and Lexa were a package deal.

“Yeah, on that shelf up there.”

 Clarke saw a hint of a smile on Lexa’s face when she walked past her to start setting up candles here and there. She may have put twice as many as what Clarke would have, but she didn’t even consider complaining about it – if that made Lexa happy, Clarke had no qualms with it.

She did move one candle that Lexa had put too close to a fern without noticing. Having a housefire wasn’t exactly on her to-do list.

“You’re sure you’re not hungry?”

Lexa shook her head. “Not really.”

“I could get snacks.”

“I’m good, but if you want-“

“No, no, I already ate,” Clarke amended, smiling gently as she reached past her to turn the tap off. “I’m fine.”

There was a brief moment of awkwardness where neither one of them knew what to do. The bath was run, and the only next step was to get naked – but, having never gotten naked with each other in a situation that wasn’t sexual, they weren’t quite sure of how to proceed.

Clarke ended up biting the bullet and pulling her shirt over her head. And that led to Lexa doing so too, and not soon after Clarke was climbing into the bath while Lexa folded her clothes and put them neatly aside.

“You’re leaving them like that?” she asked, gesturing at the little pile of clothes Clarke had left next to the hamper.

“They’re going in the hamper. Don’t make me feel bad with your amazing organization skills,” Clarke shrugged, teasing Lexa a little.

“I’m just taking them home with me, I figured I should fold them up…” Lexa muttered as she came to stand by the bath. “How do we do this?”

“What?”

“There’s a lot of water in that bath.”

“And?”

“It’s going to overflow.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

Clarke looked at the water, then back at Lexa, and sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

So it wasn’t until some water was let out that Lexa was finally able to get in, and settle down so that she was sitting between Clarke’s legs. Sinking in the warm water already felt good, but then there were Clarke’s arms sliding around her waist, pulling her closer, and then Clarke’s whole body enveloping hers – and it was practically heaven.

Clarke felt a jump in her chest when she noticed Lexa’s body practically melting into her – she hadn’t expected to be so pleased to see Lexa relaxing, but she was. Very much so. Being able to ease her worries, even if for a few hours, was all Clarke really wanted in that moment. She just wanted Lexa happy.

“I feel good right now.”

Clarke hadn’t said a thing, not even hinted at what she was thinking, and so was very surprised when Lexa said what she did. Stunned into silence, really, and didn’t realize she’d fallen silent till Lexa turned around to look at her with a worried expression on her face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Clarke said, letting out a little laugh. “Sorry, I just…it’s like you answered a question before I asked it. It was weird.”

“What question?”

Clarke shrugged, suddenly feeling very shy with Lexa so close, eyes all dark and skin glistening wet and oh-so beautiful – it was messing up her thoughts in all the best ways.

“I just wanted to ask if you felt any better, that’s all.”

Lexa smiled a little, though the expression in her eyes remained quite somber. “I’m not perfectly alright, but…can’t really complain about this.”

“Nice, huh?”

“We need to do this more.”

Clarke nodded. “Definitely.”

Lexa turned back around and laid her head back against Clarke’s shoulder, letting out a little hum when Clarke cradled her head with her arm and gave her a little forehead kiss.

“You look so beautiful right now.”

Lexa looked at Clarke, and only saw sincerity and affection in her eyes – she was being totally honest, and somehow, that struck Lexa like a jolt of electricity. It was as if she were hearing it for the first time, really.

And it felt really, really good.

Made her momentarily forget about everything else. All she knew was Clarke, the warm water, the scents wafting around them, and the flickering of the candles all around.

She almost fell asleep.

Or did.

Clarke could’ve sworn she did, but said nothing – just adjusted her up a little to make sure her head stayed above the water, and held her closer. It was only a few minutes, but it was a few minutes that Clarke savoured; the silence and the intimate comfort of being together was something she hadn’t ever really experienced before. It felt good, it felt right – it felt like something she wished she could have way more often.

When Lexa woke up, Clarke found she looked so irresistibly cute it almost hurt not to kiss her – her brows furrowing in confusion and the momentary haziness of her eyes was something incredibly adorable.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Clarke smiled. “I want to kiss you.”

“Then why won’t you?”

“So it’s not weird.”

“We’re in the bath together. Naked,” Lexa stated, as if that were to explain her point. “I don’t see how kissing would make it weird.”

“Is this your way of saying you want me to kiss you?”

Lexa pouted a little. “Maybe.”

And so there was some kissing. Or a lot of it. So much that the water turned cool and they had to run some warm water back in so they wouldn’t freeze while Clarke washed Lexa’s hair and Lexa did Clarke’s. She insisted on it, saying she’d been dying to do it for ages, and it wasn’t like Clarke was going to say no. In no situation or universe would Clarke have been able to say no to Lexa wanting to wash her hair – it was simply impossible.

When they went to bed, Clarke could tell Lexa wasn’t entirely okay. She was relaxed and cosy, and looked less close to crying than she had when she’d walked in to the house, but she still looked withdrawn and small.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Lexa was laying on her side, hugging a pillow, staring at nothing in particular. When she heard Clarke, she glanced back, and nodded – and then took a long while to actually say anything.

“I just feel weird.”

“Bad weird?”

Lexa nodded, and then let out a deep sigh. “It doesn’t feel good.”

Clarke let out a quiet ‘aww’ and hugged her a little closer, making sure not to hold her too tight – for the present, it felt to her like Lexa needed a little bit of space. She knew that Lexa would’ve told her if she wanted her to be closer.

“I really do feel like I’ve messed up,” Lexa said quietly. “Irreparably. Like there’s no going back from this, she’s not my friend anymore and I just-“

She paused for a moment, to get the choking sensation in her throat to go away.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Clarke nodded slowly, and considered her words before saying anything.

“I think…just let things unfold. I don’t feel like this is the end of your friendship.”

“Costia’s gone already, I think,” Lexa muttered. “And I- I love her, as a friend, but if me being around hurts her then I don’t want that to happen. But I-“

“She needs time,” Clarke told her. “She’ll be fine, I’m certain of it-“

“But you can’t know for sure.”

“I know. But I can hope?”

Lexa let out a little laugh and wiped away a stray tear. “Stop being so cute.”

“No,” Clarke chuckled, leaning forward to kiss Lexa’s shoulder. “You need cuteness right now.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Maybe, but I think I’m also right.”

Lexa sighed. “Maybe.”

“But I get it,” Clarke added. “You don’t know one way or another, so you’re not feeling good. And there’s not much to do to fix that except wait.”

“And waiting sucks,” Lexa added.

They talked for some more, but not much was added. The fact was that Lexa wasn’t feeling entirely good, and Clarke knew she’d done her best to fix that – but she wasn’t worried, either. Lexa wasn’t too sad, or too worried; she was upset and not perfectly happy, but that was perfectly fine.

“I can bet you things will be looking so much better in a month.”

Lexa was practically asleep by this point, now more wrapped up in Clarke’s arms; Clarke had started tracing her fingertips along Lexa’s skin, eventually moving up to her face, and the gentle touches and traces of her touches along Lexa’s face had been what had lulled her to a calm state where no worries existed and sleep was sure to be sound.

“You’re amazing.”

She mumbled it out mid-yawn, and it made Clarke smile in a way that made her chest feel warm.

“No, babe, that’s you.”

Lexa was too sleepy to argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clexa bathing is like my #1 kink


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well it's surely been a while but, as it is, life got ahead of me this past month and a half
> 
> but college is settled for the present and here's a long-ass chapter to enjoy!

Not much changed in the passing weeks. January ended, February began, and things between Lexa and her friends remained icy cold; it seemed that, in the process of detaching herself from all her obligations and hobbies, she’d somehow also offended half of the students in her class, enough that she no longer received even half as many greetings when walking around campus.

It may have hurt at first, but eventually, she grew to accept it.

And Clarke helped, too, reminding her that barely anyone _really_ knew that many people. That it was perfectly normal that only friends would say hi and chat for a bit, and that not everyone really had to know her. And that she, too, didn’t have to know and be nice to everyone she met.

Rationally, Lexa had always known that. But somehow through the years she seemed to have forgotten the art of being alone.

For that, Clarke really was the perfect mentor.

Not that she wasn’t being helped by Lexa, too. Hell, she was now finding herself engaging in _small talk_ with students she only knew by sight from her classes – on a few occasions, she’d even dared to be the first to initiate conversation. Of course it had only been restricted to topics related to class, like whether the professor was going to show up at all or whether they thought the upcoming exam was going to be hard, but still, it was progress.

And it was because of Lexa’s help. She was in better moods now, felt more open and confident, and no longer felt like hiding away so much.

Raven helped, too.

She was so boisterous and chatty with people that Clarke inevitably found herself dragged into conversations as a third party to resolve debates on the strangest of topics.

“Clarke, come here- tell this dude here that a girl saying ‘whatever’ about Valentine’s day plans does _not_ mean ‘whatever’.”

Clarke frowned, looking from Raven to the guy – she wasn’t quite sure if she was really the person to ask about such things.

Sure, she’d celebrated Valentine’s day a few times in her life, but she wouldn’t have said she was an expert on the topic.

“I mean- maybe?” she shrugged. “Depends on how she said the whatever, I think.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Raven agreed, turning back to the guy. “Monty, I was there. Harper does _not_ mean whatever.”

“Then why couldn’t she just say so?”

“Because she wants to be surprised? I don’t know, girls can be ridiculous sometimes.”

The way she said it prompted Clarke to give Raven a strange look, which was met with a ‘we’ll talk about it later’ look and a shrug.

They did talk about it later, after group therapy when they were on their way to Clarke’s house for dinner. Raven’s roommate had, apparently, commandeered the apartment, and so Raven was in need of a place to stay. With Abby working again, Clarke had suggested she come over – and Raven, of course, had then laughed and said she hadn’t had a sleepover in a long while.

Clarke had laughed and almost agreed.

“But no, Lexa-“

Raven had just rolled her eyes. “Yes, your cute ass girlfriend has sleepovers with you, I know, it’s adorable-“

“And what about it?”

She’d just laughed and ran the last few steps to the front door.

“You were last.”

“And?”

“That means you take the first drink.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Come on…a little fun?” Raven continued as they stepped in to the house. “Unless that’s a hard no, then I won’t say another word about it-“

“No, it’s…” Clarke shrugged. “I guess I have some whiskey.”

“And we don’t have to.”

“You’re backpedalling.”

“I’m your guest, I don’t want to be rude,” Raven frowned, dropping her bag on the floor by the stairs. “But also…a drink could be fun.”

Clarke just laughed. “You make no sense.”

“Don’t laugh at me for trying to be nice!” Raven complained. “That’s just…well, rude.”

“How about we have that drink and you stop being ridiculous?” Clarke suggested. “And you can then tell me why you’ve been acting a little bit weird today…”

A drink or two later they were a bit more giggly, a little more relaxed, and chatting while waiting for the food delivery guy to arrive. Raven had insisted on Thai food, and so, Thai food it was; Clarke really had no complaints, especially given Raven seemed to have an incredible taste for food and a wide knowledge of restaurants Clarke hadn’t even heard of.

She didn’t remember that Anya did extra shifts delivering for a Thai restaurant till the doorbell rang and Raven practically sprinted to the door. Sure enough, it was Anya, a bag of food in hand and a very confused expression on her face on finding Raven behind the door.

“Hi- oh, Clarke’s here too. Hey,” she stammered, looking from Raven to Clarke in confusion. “You ordered food?”

“Yeah, here,” Clarke reached past Raven and took the bag from Anya. “How much?”

Raven was being odd. She barely said a thing to Anya aside from ‘hey’ and ‘bye’, and spent most of the short exchange at the door being, well…weird.

The second the door was shut, Clarke was demanding for answers.

“Spill. Do you _like_ Anya?”

Raven frowned. “What on earth gave you that idea?”

“Whatever that just there was,” Clarke chuckled, heading to the kitchen for some plates. “Sit down, I want answers.”

“I’m under no obligation to tell you a thing,” Raven argued. “And besides, there’s nothing to say-“

“I’ve told you plenty about Lexa,” Clarke told her. “Now it’s your turn.”

And she did.

As it turned out, she had a crush. A major one. And Anya was being, well…a conundrum at best.

“I’ll ask Lexa,” Clarke offered. “She’s her sister, I’m sure she can provide insight-“But that’s _so embarrassing-_ “ Raven groaned. “Ugh, she’s just…doesn’t make any sense. And I _want_ to get my shit together because Valentine’s day is coming up and-“

“You? You care about Valentine’s day?” Clarke exclaimed. “I would have never thought.”

“Why?

“Well…” Clarke shrugged. “You seem like you’d be more likely to make fun of it.”

“Oh yeah, I wouldn’t do it cheesy like you would-“

“Hey!?”

“Oh, come on,” Raven smirked. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a whole plan for the day complete with an adorable gift and probably flowers too-?”

Clarke frowned. “Lexa insisted on planning the day,” she muttered. “Apparently she’s never…you know. Celebrated Valentine’s day with anyone. Or not in a relationship, anyway.”

“Wait, really? Never?”

Clarke shrugged. “I’m just as baffled as you, but…”

“You like the idea of being first, huh?”

Raven received a pointed look for that, and no denial of what she’d said. That was because she was absolutely right – Clarke did very much love the thought that she’d be Lexa’s first proper Valentine’s day. She adored the fact that she’d get to give Lexa that, a nice calm day, with whatever Lexa had planned, hopefully everything happening just as planned; she had no need to know what would happen, she was happy with whatever Lexa wanted to do.

 

* * *

 

Little did Clarke know that at that very moment, Lexa was sat at her desk at home, notebook laid out before her, with a completely blank mind. Not a single idea, barely a thought crossed her mind; she was trying, but so far, all her attempts had been to no avail.

What she was trying to do was plan a perfect Valentine’s day.

As she’d soon found out, it was harder than she’d thought.

She had a vague idea of what she wanted to do, but a gift? That was where she was stumped. They’d only been dating a month or so, so anything extravagant was surely too much – and besides, she wasn’t yet _entirely_ sure she knew what Clarke liked. So far as she was concerned, she’d gotten lucky with the stuffed racoon for Christmas. That she knew Clarke had loved, yes, but she couldn’t get her another and just couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t too much or too little; finding something that was just perfect seemed to be impossible.

A little necklace or something of the like could have been sweet, but Lexa wasn’t yet sure if Clarke was the type to wear them.

Earrings? Somehow, the second Lexa had sat down and thought about it, she’d realized she didn’t even know if Clarke had piercings. She was sure she’d noted it at one point or another, but being pressed for actual knowledge, her mind was coming up completely empty.

“Goddamnit,” she muttered, tossing a rolled up piece of paper at the wall and watching it roll back over her desk. “This shouldn’t be this hard.”

Asking Clarke was always an option, but Lexa knew what she would’ve said even without having to ask.

_But you don’t need to get me anything, babe. Spending the day with you is enough._

And Lexa didn’t want to come empty handed. She _did_ want to get Clarke something, really did; she was excited, too, and wanted her first Valentine’s day with an actual girlfriend to be, well…special.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, and she couldn’t help but smile when she saw it was from Clarke.

**(Clarke, 7:19 p.m.)**

_Hey babe, Raven has a crush on your sister and can’t get a read on her. Any advice?_

Lexa let out a laugh when she read that.

**(Lexa, 7:20 p.m.)**

_Anya’s had a crush on her for ages but won’t admit it._

_I’ll talk to her._

She set her phone down after a while, still smiling, the task at hand almost entirely forgotten.

Almost.

When she did remember, she sighed deeply and shook her head.

“You alright?”

Lexa whirled around to find Anya standing in the doorway, looking at her curiously.

“You seem worried,” she continued, walking in and sitting down on Lexa’s bed. “What’s up?”

Lexa turned around in her chair and sighed again. “Valentine’s day is giving me a headache.”

“Can’t think of anything to get Clarke?”

Lexa shook her head. “No, nothing just seems…nothing seems right.”

“Well, you have a restaurant reservation, right?”

Lexa nodded. “At this cute French place downtown.”

“And you’re going to take her for dessert at that new cake bar by the city park?”

Another nod. “We’ve gone over this, Anya. You know exactly what we’re doing.”

“Then why not just bring flowers?”

“But flowers aren’t _enough_ ,” Lexa sighed. “I want to do something special.”

“Then get her jewellery.”

“But what if it’s too much?”

“Lexa, this girl is head over heels for you,” Anya chuckled. “I can promise you, she’ll love anything you get her regardless of whether it’s a ring pop or a diamond necklace.”

Lexa pondered it for a bit, chewing her lip. “Well, I _did_ have an idea…”

“Go on…”

 

* * *

 

In the end, Anya and Lexa ended up going shopping that evening. Lexa got the gift she’d originally thought was too romantic and too much for just one month of dating, but Anya had pushed her – and Anya, well, she’d almost walked into a pole when Lexa had casually mentioned that Raven liked her.

She could have maybe been a little more subtle, but she knew her sister through and through; she knew that Anya would have been too hard-headed and in her own feelings to realize that Raven liked her, and so a blunt approach was the best way to go.

The rest of the evening was then wildly entertaining for Lexa as Anya went around in circles, asking ‘are you sure’ and ‘really’ far more than she really needed; she kept Clarke updated, too, and together they laughed and enjoyed what they both knew to be the beginnings of a relationship between the two people closest to them.

She’d even made Anya promise they’d double date some time.

Anya had just groaned and told her to keep it in her pants.

“We haven’t even gone on a date yet.”

“But you will.”

“Maybe-“

“Don’t be stupid, Anya. Ask her out for Valentine’s day.”

“I’m sure she hates Valentine’s day.”

“Then some other day? Just don’t be dumb,” Lexa smirked. “Oh, and I’m going to need the car.”

“Then how will I get to my date?”

“Raven has a motorcycle if I recall correctly...”

 

* * *

 

Clarke had never been quite so excited for Valentine’s day before. It wasn’t a nervous excitement, it was just anticipation of a day she was sure was going to be absolutely amazing – it didn’t matter what they did, just the thought of spending the whole day with Lexa was more than enough.

By sheer luck, the day fell on a Saturday, and so they really did have the whole day to themselves with no school to worry about.

Lexa took her out on Wednesday, too. She wouldn’t say what it was about till they were in the car, where, after a very passionate kiss, she grinned wildly and told Clarke she was getting a gift early.

“Really?”

Lexa nodded. “We’re getting you a dress.”

Clarke frowned. “By that you mean I’m paying, right? ‘Cause if you’ve already gotten me a present and you’re insisting on paying on Saturday-“

Lexa rolled her eyes. “If it matters to you that much, you can pay. But I just…I want you to feel nice. And look nice. And feel nice about the fact that you look nice. And I know you said you haven’t worn a dress since-“ she paused, and quickly corrected herself. “In a while. And you _definitely_ have the body for it-“

Clarke laughed and shut her up with another kiss. “Stop rambling, you adorable dork. I love it.”

“And I need something to wear, too, so….this should be fun. If you’re comfortable, you don’t of course _have_ to wear a dress-”

Clarke shook her head. “Shush, Lexa. It’s great. Perfect. Let’s go.”

Really, she’d been wanting to go clothes shopping for ages. The only article of clothing she’d bought in the past year had been a packet of socks, and even that had been a necessity that she’d dreaded taking care of. Most of the clothes in her closet went now untouched – the dresses she’d once loved wearing to go out now felt tainted and wrong, and somehow she no longer liked how her body looked in them.

Going alone hadn’t been an option. But now, with Lexa, it sounded like the perfect afternoon out.

* * *

“You should try that one.” “Oh, you’d look smoking in that- wait, this one too…”

Clarke soon found that Lexa was very excitable when it came to shopping. Most of the clothes she picked out were for Clarke – though Clarke held her own and found a whole load of shirts and dresses she wanted to see Lexa in, she had to in the end admit that Lexa had beat her at her own game. A pile of dresses of various styles in hand, they headed to the fitting rooms, expecting to have to have one room for each.

“Sorry, there’s only one left…” the clerk shrugged. “You two can go in together, I don’t mind.”

They definitely giggled about it once they were behind a closed door. They both knew the clerk had thought they were just friends and nothing more, but in this instance, the heteronormativity was a plus – it enabled them both to enjoy a strip show and fashion show in one.

Lexa sat down first, insisting Clarke be the first to try her selection on.

“You just want me to take my clothes off,” Clarke teased.

Lexa just smirked. “Ma-aybe.”

Clarke pulled her shirt off and turned around to give Lexa a taunting look. “Missed these, huh?”

She squeezed her boobs together with her hands, and Lexa just about forgot how to breathe.

“Oh…wow. Maybe you should just wear _that._ ”

“What? A worn out bra?” Clarke laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Here, try this.”

The first three dresses didn’t fit Clarke at all, and Lexa quickly grew worried it would get to her; she could tell she was disappointed when the third dress wouldn’t go over her thighs, and wanted nothing more than to reach over and assure her there was nothing wrong with her and everything wrong with the dresses.

The second two fit somewhat but didn’t quite look right. Of course, Lexa wouldn’t have cared had she pulled on a trash bag, but she did know that neither dress was perfect – one was a color that washed Clarke out, and another was just cut strangely and bunched over Clarke’s ass in a way that made it look even shorter than it was.

Not that Lexa had a problem with it being short. And she made that clear, too.

“But you’re not comfortable,” she then added, smiling and pulling Clarke closer. “Let me go out to see if I can find a few more.”

She kissed Clarke before slipping out, now determined to find a dress that not only fit her but also looked amazing.

She ended up finding exactly what she needed, but it had taken her far longer than she’d anticipated – by the time she got back, Clarke had already pulled on her own clothes, thinking there wasn’t anything more for her to try.

“Please,” Lexa pleaded, “One more. I know it’ll be amazing.”

Clarke looked at the dress suspiciously. It was a deep red, seemed to be tight, but looked…interesting.

But also was very tight, that much she could see. Bodycon and knee length at most, Clarke knew very well that it could either be perfect, or a perfect disaster.

“There’s no way I’m fitting in that.”

“It’s stretchy. I have a good feeling about this,” Lexa assured her, showing her how the fabric stretched. “Please?”

Clarke frowned, but Lexa’s hands were tugging at the hem of her shirt, gentle and tentative…and there really wasn’t any way she could’ve said no. She let Lexa undress her, and maybe paused for a short – or long - while to kiss her, hands roaming all over…they only barely remembered they weren’t actually in a completely private space, not until someone a few stalls down sneezed, bringing on the realization that they needed to get it together.

“Later,” Clarke whispered, smirking at Lexa in a way that made her groan. “You can wait, can’t you?”

“Put on the dress,” Lexa then smiled, gesturing at the hanger left to wait on the chair. “I want to see you in it.”

“Close your eyes.”

Lexa didn’t see Clarke’s expression as she slipped the dress on. She didn’t see the prayer Clarke had in her eyes, the plea – _please let it fit_ – and the absolute shock that dawned on her face when the dress _did_ fit and she turned around to see herself in the mirror.

She fell so silent, and for so long, that Lexa got worried.

“Clarke? What is it?”

“Nothing…” Clarke sighed. “You can open your eyes.”

Her voice was worryingly small, and so Lexa opened her eyes expecting to see her not wearing the dress – but she was dead wrong, and having not been prepared, she was lucky she stayed on the chair she was sitting on.

“You look…” she stammered, unable to think of any words. “Oh my god Clarke, you look _amazing_.”

She really did. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, sat just right on her body, tight in the right places and loose enough that she could move; her ass looked beyond amazing, her cleavage made Lexa’s mind go blank, and just…she looked perfect.

And the smile on her lips, that was most precious of all.

“You picked a nice one,” she smiled, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “I love it.”

_I love you,_ Lexa thought, but didn’t say it out loud.

Instead, she stood up, wrapped her arms around Clarke’s waist, and kissed her neck softly before resting her chin on her shoulder. “Absolutely beautiful.”

She felt Clarke’s body relax at that, and for a moment thought she was going to faint – but she didn’t, she just leaned against her a little more, and let out a content sigh.

“I do love it.”

And then, she turned her head, and pressed a gentle kiss to Lexa’s forehead.

“Thank you.”

It was then that Lexa realized that Clarke’s voice was small because she was on the verge of tears. Not because she was sad, but because she was happy – and that, to Lexa, was the best compliment of all.

“No need to cry, baby,” she said softly, turning Clarke around so she could look at her properly. “You did your eyeliner so nicely today.”

Clarke let out a laugh and wiped away a stray tear. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Oh I will, later,” Clarke assured her. “Now come on, try on your clothes, the clerk’s going to get suspicious.”

 

* * *

 

Perhaps the rest of that afternoon was spent with Clarke in an amazing mood and Lexa getting the best and worst of it through extra attention and a lot of orgasms. Perhaps she left Clarke’s house with her hair completely mussed up and going commando in borrowed sweatpants because her panties had been tossed god knows where the second they’d gotten to Clarke’s bedroom.

She had a nice shirt and pants set out for the day. Clarke had her ‘to die for’ dress.

All was set out perfectly.

Or almost, anyway.

It began as just a little headache nagging Clarke on Wednesday, and excessive fatigue on Thursday. Friday went by in a haze, with Clarke wishing it wasn’t true; but by Saturday morning, it was very clear – she was sick.

Very sick.

Sick enough that her mother came in to her bedroom at 5 in the morning and woke her up because her cough had woken her up.

“Clarke, honey,” she sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed and trying her forehead with an apologetic look. “You’re sick.”

“But I _can’t_ be,” Clarke muttered, coughing again, her voice hoarse and dry. “I have plans today. I don’t have time to be sick-“

She was interrupted by a cough. Abby just tutted.

“Let me look you over, and then we’ll talk. If you’re sick, there’s nothing you can do about that. I’m sure Lexa would understand.”

Ten minutes and a stern talk later, Clarke had to resign to her fate. She was sick, and her mother had made her swear she’d stay in bed and rest. She’d even threatened to call Lexa.

Clarke had assured her that she’d listen and not go out that day.

“You can have her over, if you like,” Abby suggested. “I know it’s not the same, but…”

Clarke just sighed, and nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’ll go back to bed for another hour or so,” Abby yawned. “I’m sorry I have to work today, I could stay home if you wanted me to-?”

Clarke smiled. “Don't worry Mom, I’ll be fine. Lexa will be here to make sure I don’t do anything stupid.”

“Good,” Abby nodded, heading to her room.

As she went, Clarke heard her say, quietly to herself: “I like her…”

She then groaned, and sent off the last text she wanted to be sending on Valentine’s day.

**(Clarke, 05:37 a.m.)**

_I’m sick, apparently. I’m so sorry. You can come over, if you want, but we can’t go out today. I’m sorry._

She put her phone down, curled up in her sheets, and passed out for another two hours.

What she didn’t realize was that Lexa woke up to that text, and that immediately upon seeing it, all she felt was concern; not upset that the day’s plans were ruined, not annoyed that Valentine’s day wasn’t going to go as she’d wanted it to – she was just worried about Clarke.

And so she got up at twenty to six in the morning and got dressed in record time, grabbing a change of clothes on a whim and tossing them in a bag – she may not have had a full plan formulated as of yet, but she did have some sort of an idea.

So what if Clarke was sick.

She just wanted to spend the day with her.

 

* * *

 

When she got to the house, she wasn’t surprised that Abby opened the door.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Lexa apologized. “I- Clarke said she’s sick.”

“So you came over at-“ Abby paused, glanced at the time, and then continued: “At 6:15 in the morning?”

Lexa wasn’t so sure if she was annoyed or teasing her, not until she saw a smile and Abby stepped aside to let her in.

“She’s sleeping,” she told her, eyeing the bouquet in Lexa’s hands curiously. “There’s vases in the cupboard under the sink,” she commented about the flowers. “And I’m going to go try sleeping as well. I have to leave for work at eight. You two have a lovely Valentine’s day. But Clarke does need to rest.”

Lexa nodded. “I’ll make sure she stays in bed.”

Immediately as she said it, she wanted to smack herself – she hadn't meant to say it like that, but, thankfully, it seemed Abby was too tired to have noticed.

She headed upstairs, leaving Lexa to her own devices. Evidently, she was trusted that much; it wasn’t so strange, really, it wasn’t the first time she’d spent time in the house with Abby there as well. And so she set her bag down, made sure she definitely had Clarke’s present with her, and went to put the flowers away so that they’d be ready when she needed them.

Tiptoeing into Clarke’s room as quietly as she could, Lexa couldn’t help but pause for a little bit to just admire her. But only the shortest while, because she quickly realized it was a little bit creepy – Clarke didn’t, after all, yet know she was there. Not wanting to startle her, she gently knocked on the door to rouse her.

“What-“ came a whimpered reply from the bed, and a head poked out from under the covers. Upon seeing Lexa, Clarke let out a gasp, sitting up – and groaned, because moving quickly made her feel even sicker than she was.

“Come here,” Clarke grumbled, moving the covers so that there was a space for Lexa in front of her. “I don’t feel good.”

By the time Lexa had gotten into bed, Clarke had already fallen back asleep. She was burning up, her skin was clammy, and Lexa felt incredibly bad to find her girl in such a state – even though she had fallen asleep easily, it was more than clear that she wasn’t comfortable by any measure. Her breaths were raspy, she let out little whimpers every now and then, and, no matter what Lexa tried, she wouldn’t quite settle.

At some point, Lexa fell asleep as well. Clarke laid half on top of her, face nuzzled in her neck, fist tightly holding on to the front of Lexa’s top – despite being fast asleep, Lexa was quite sure she wouldn’t have been able to wriggle out of Clarke’s grasp had she tried.

Not that she wanted to.

At first, she dozed off, and then, slowly fell back asleep. She only briefly woke when the front door was opened and closed; a car starting in the driveway told her that Abby had gone to work, and she let out a little sigh before falling back asleep again.

Not shortly after, however, Clarke woke up.

She looked confused at first, seeing Lexa in her bed – and then, suddenly, her expression fell to sadness, and Lexa had just enough time to see tears welling up in her eyes before her face was hidden away in her hands.

“Hey-“ she yawned, reaching up to gently stroke Clarke’s face. “Why- why are you crying, babe?”

Clarke didn’t say anything. She couldn’t, really – she was too busy trying to not cry. But that didn’t really work, not at all; she trembled and shook, balled up her fists and tried not to be too loud, but at all this she failed. It was a miserable cry, one which made Lexa’s heart ache, knowing there was little she could do to stop it; she held her closer and tried to kiss her face, but Clarke turned away, muttering something about ‘I’ll get you sick’ before breaking down in sobs and tears again.

A long while of sniffling and crying later, Lexa finally got through to her – gently, kindly, and ever-so patient, she just smiled when Clarke finally drew in a shaky breath and seemed to calm down.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke whispered, really trying her best to not cry again. “I ruined Valentine’s day and now we can’t go out, and I know you were all excited since it’s your first and I’m just- I’m sorry-“

Lexa just sighed, a gentle smile still on her lips. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

“But I’m _sick_. And you had plans-”

“Clarke,” Lexa said, interrupting her by placing a finger to her lips. “Shush. You didn’t ruin anything. You’re sick, but so what? I just want to spend the day with you.”

Clarke frowned, clearly not entirely liking being told to shush – but at the same time, what Lexa had said left her feeling all sorts of soft, and so she just stayed quiet.

“Look,” Lexa continued, sitting up a little, “You need to rest. And your mom said you’re not to leave bed. So, you stay in bed.”

Clarke looked at her, slightly confused. “And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make this the best Valentine’s day you’ve ever had,” Lexa said simply. “At home, comfortable and cozy. Just you wait.”

She got up as if to leave, but Clarke’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist and prevented her from doing so.

“Not yet, don’t go,” Clarke mumbled. “I feel so bad, I just…don’t go.”

That melted every ounce of Lexa’s being. So maybe she did stay for another hour, just watching Clarke sleep, running patterns along her skin with her fingers, twirling her hair…just taking in the moment, she was in no rush, and focused then more on just making sure Clarke felt as good as she possibly could.

When Clarke woke up mumbling about feeling too hot, Lexa finally managed to slip out of bed.

She had a promise to fulfil, and was determined to do it too.

Leaving the house wasn’t an option – she wanted to stay with Clarke, all day, and make sure she was alright.

The first thing she did was call the restaurant to cancel their reservation. It took a long while and a slightly exaggerated sob-story about an intended proposal, but in the end Lexa had managed to sweet-talk her way into having the meals prepared and boxed up for someone to come pick them up later in the afternoon. Then, she called Anya.

“Hey, Anya, I need a favour.”

“What?”

A brief explanation later, Anya was all on board.

“I’ll be on a date with Raven, though,” she reminded Lexa. “But…Clarke’s her friend. And you’re my sister. So I don’t think she’ll mind.”

“You mind picking up some cakes from that place downtown, too?” Lexa asked, only just remembering about it. “I can call ahead and ask them to put something aside-?”

“Or then I video call you when I’m in the store and you tell me what to get,” Anya suggested, clearly smiling on her end. “How about that?”

“That’s better,” Lexa agreed. “Thank you so much, I’ll repay you somehow I promise-“

“Consider it a late Christmas present.”

“But you got me a Christmas present.”

“Then consider it a second one.”

 

* * *

 

The afternoon went by slow. Clarke would’ve liked to get up and maybe move on downstairs, but Lexa insisted she stay in bed – with her there, too, of course. No kisses were exchanged because Clarke refused to let Lexa kiss her – “I don’t want to get you sick, Lexa” – and so instead Clarke ended up covered in soft kisses anywhere but on her lips. Neck, arms, chest, jaw…her forehead, too. Lexa was just so incredibly endearing and attentive that Clarke couldn’t help but melt.

They watched movies, read books, drank too many cups of tea…basically hung out, really. At one point, Clarke spent a good half hour drawing Lexa while she sat still and modelled for her. She was maybe not in the best of moods, given she was still half convinced and worried she'd ruined what would've otherwise been a nice Valentine's day - but Lexa seemed to notice that, and kept reminding her that she was happy with how the day was going, just to keep Clarke from worrying.

It all felt very casual and almost everyday – but only almost, because there was still a very clear undertone, a hint that something was going to happen.

Something special, truly.

Lexa refused to tell Clarke anything about her plans, and Clarke grew slightly annoyed at her smug face and at not knowing anything about what was going to happen; she knew Lexa had something planned, could tell it was something great by the look on her face whenever she got a text or rushed out of the room to take a phone call, but just…had no idea, really.

When the doorbell rang, Lexa sprang up so quick she nearly spilled her mug of tea.

“Promise me you’ll stay up here, okay?”

Clarke frowned. “Won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“We’re having dinner soon, I’ll tell you that much,” Lexa smiled. “I’ll come get you when it’s ready, okay? You rest up.”

“I’m not an invalid, Lexa,” Clarke muttered. “I could come help?”

“Let me treat you this once, okay?”

To that, Clarke couldn’t really argue – and so she laid back down against the pillows, and watched Lexa rush downstairs as the doorbell rang again.

She heard hushed voices downstairs, more than just Lexa’s – and then, just after the door had slammed shut, she got up enough to see Anya and Raven walking down the driveway to Raven’s bike.

Why they’d come over, however, Clarke simply couldn’t figure it out.

Perhaps she was high on cough syrup, and maybe she was just sleepy and too worn out to focus enough. But she really didn’t know much of what Lexa was planning, despite Lexa really not going to any extensive lengths to conceal her plans.

What she did know was that Lexa was going to come get her for dinner soon. And that she  _had_ bought a dress just for the occasion.

And so, when Lexa did come upstairs, having dressed up herself to cheer Clarke up a little, she stepped into the bedroom and had to do a double-take upon seeing Clarke – she just looked so good, and so _unexpectedly_ so, that she could barely breathe. Her hand on the doorknob tightened as if gripping on for dear life, her mouth fell open; it didn’t help that she’d seen Clarke in the dress before, she just really did look _that_ good.

Stunning was the only word she could think of, and even that wasn't enough.

She’d even done her makeup. Perhaps not as much as what she would’ve done had they gone to a restaurant, but it still made her look even more divine. And her hair…in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, it looked so effortless and yet, so enticing…

Lexa had to shake her head to get those thoughts out. Clarke was sick.

Sex was, sadly, not on the table at present.

“You alright there, babe? You’ve been quiet for like, two minutes.”

Lexa closed her mouth and instinctively brought her hand up to wipe her chin – she was so sure she had drooled that it just…happened.

She hadn’t drooled, but she might as well have.

“You look amazing,” she sighed, taking a few steps over and taking Clarke’s hand into hers, “And I wish you’d let me kiss you.”

“But I don’t want to get you sick.”

“We made out yesterday during lunch, I’m pretty sure I’ve already gotten your germs all over me,” Lexa reminded her. “Please? You- you just look beautiful. Beautiful isn’t even enough-“

“Stop being so sappy,” Clarke laughed gently, eyes panning over Lexa before coming back up and looking into hers with a look that at least matched Lexa’s own expression of desire and admiration. “You’re the one that looks beyond beautiful.”

Lexa was wearing a very form-fitting black skirt and a shirt that had such open cleavage it was bordering on scandalous – the bralette she had under was lacy and white, which paired perfectly with the warm orange of the shirt. Her hair she’d swept over one shoulder in a near-flawless braid, and she, too, had put on just a touch of makeup. Her intention had been just to dress up for Clarke’s entertainment, knowing how much Clarke had loved the skirt she’d bought – she’d just wanted to be pretty for her, really. There had been no expectations of Clarke dressing up. Her being sick, Lexa had figured she’d of course prefer to stay in comfortable pjs and fuzzy socks.

But no, Clarke had surprised her so thoroughly that she couldn’t really think properly.

“You sure you don’t want to at least put on proper socks?” she managed to ask as they were heading downstairs. “Your feet could get cold.”

“You’re too caring,” Clarke laughed. “And really? Fuzzy socks would ruin this whole look.”

“But they’d keep your cute toes warm?”

Clarke let out a sigh, and then stopped. “Fine, I’ll go get socks-“

“No, I’ll-“

“Lexa, I'm not incapacitated.”

Lexa just huffed, but stayed in place while Clarke quickly went back to her room and fetched not one, but two pairs of socks. “Would be unfair of me to let your toes go cold when mine are toasty,” she shrugged. “Here, you take the penguin ones, they’re perfect for you.”

The fact that Clarke was a little high on flu medicine was beyond entertaining and endearing to Lexa. She could’ve told her to do just about anything, and she would’ve done it without question – her slightly inconsistent train of thought and adorable ramblings were just beyond anything she could’ve imagined.

When they came to the kitchen, Clarke froze – and let out a sigh.

“Oh, Lexa…”

The kitchen was lit by a single lamp in the corner and light spilling from the lit living room, and then a whole mass of candles, spread across countertops and set all along the dinner table, flickering warm light filling the room with just enough light that they could see, but not too much that the intimate mood was gone.

There was food, appetizers already set ready on the table decorated with actual rose petals, a charcuterie board and a salad for them each; there was wine, there were fancy glasses which Clarke didn’t even know where Lexa had found them from – and, there were flowers.

Flowers, and a gift.

“Oh, wait-“

She slipped away so quick Lexa was left completely baffled, standing in the kitchen, unsure of what had happened until Clarke returned with a little gift-bag in hand.

“I forgot yours,” Clarke breathed, a little out of breath after rushing up and down the stairs.

“You wanna sit down? The food’s going to get cold.”

“Where did you get it from? It’s definitely not takeout,” Clarke commented as she sat down.

“I called the restaurant we were supposed to go to,” Lexa shrugged. “And asked nicely.”

Clarke looked at her incredulously. “You’re….wow. That’s so nice.”

“Well, I did promise you a meal…”

“You do know I would’ve been just as happy with pizza, right?”

“Yes, I do know,” Lexa smiled as she poured Clarke a little water. “And you know I’m extra sometimes, so you shouldn’t be so surprised-“

“But I am,” Clarke interrupted, laughing a little. “Because this…this is just so nice. Amazing, really.”

“Do you want to open your gift before or after dinner?”

Clarke looked at Lexa for a long while. “I think you’re the one who wants to open hers now.”

Lexa shrugged. “I can wait till after.”

“Maybe after will be better, then. You know I like to tease,” Clarke smirked.

 

* * *

 

The food was absolutely amazing. Clarke could only imagine what the food would’ve tasted like had they been in the actual restaurant – just the salad they had as an appetizer was incredibly simple and yet, by far, one of the best salads she’d ever had. Neither she nor Lexa had ever had a charcuterie board before, and so they were in agreement that it was also the best they’d ever had.

The mains were delicious and very good choices on Lexa’s part – they shared the two, the roast duck thigh and the beef stew, and both were amazing. Clarke ended up preferring the duck, while Lexa definitely ate most of the stew, but in the end, they were both very satisfied. Clarke didn’t feel too sick, either – halfway through dinner, Lexa got up to bring her a blanket, and insisted she only drink a very little bit of wine, a rule which Clarke pushed just slightly. She may have ended up on the drunker end of tipsy, but it was all good. A lovely evening, great food, a pretty girl in a shirt that showed off all when she leaned forward and in a skirt that made her ass look way too smackable to resist when she walked by…it was, as Lexa had promised, the best Valentine’s day she’d had so far.

And they weren’t even done.

“You want dessert now, or later?”

Clarke pondered it for a bit, and then shook her head. “I’m so full, I think I’ll feel sick if I eat anything sweet. But later, definitely.”

Lexa just smiled, took the plates away, and came back to give Clarke a sweet kiss.

“You wanna move to the couch?”

Clarke laughed. “You seem really eager to get to opening your gift.”

“I- I’m curious,” Lexa shrugged. “And the couch is comfier, anyway.”

After blowing out all of the candles in the kitchen, they headed into the living room. Lexa practically skipped her way – she may have indulged in the wine also – and insisted on sitting in Clarke’s lap, or partially so anyway, so that she was still facing her but also all wrapped up in her as best she could.

“I can see up your skirt,” Clarke commented, not even trying to hide the fact that she looked.

Lexa just smirked. “I know.”

“You’re dangerous.”

“Maybe.”

For a moment, there was a tense silence, one which would have certainly been followed by a steamy makeout session and sex had Clarke not been so red-nosed and sniffly and drowsy – so instead, Lexa pulled out the little gift box, and handed it to Clarke.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.”

The box was simple and nondescript, but inside Clarke found a bracelet – a simple one, made of silver, with one lone charm on it. The charm was decorated with a daisy, which Clarke had entirely forgotten she’d confessed to being one of her favorite flowers – and there it was, on an outrageously beautiful little bracelet.

She’d never truly been one for jewelry, but the bracelet somehow was exactly her style – not too fancy, but still with a hint of luxury.

“You…you like it, right?”

Clarke looked at Lexa and smiled. “It’s beautiful.”

“You want me to put it on?”

“Of course.”

Lexa was extra careful when she put the bracelet on Clarke’s wrist, her fingertips gently brushing against her hand before she looked back up at Clarke to see what she thought. “Does it fit okay? We can go exchange it if it’s too loose-“

“No, it’s perfect,” Clarke assured her. “And beautiful. You have good taste.”

"I thought I'd get a charm bracelet," Lexa explained. "So I can then buy more charms, in the future."

"That's incredibly..." Clarke paused, trying to think of the word. "Thoughtful. I love that idea."

That was when Lexa dared let out a little sigh of relief. “Good,” she sighed. “I…I was maybe a little worried.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Lexa shrugged. “I just…it could’ve been too much. Since we haven’t been dating so long…”

Clarke laughed then, and reached for her gift bag. “How about you open your present now?”

Lexa was a little confused until she looked into the bag and saw…a jewelry box.

“No…you got me jewelry too?”

Clarke just shrugged. “Look and see.”

Lexa was reaching in when she realized the jewelry box laid atop something else.

A book…no, a diary.

She pulled out both the box and the diary, and looked at both curiously, struggling to decide which one to look at first.

“Open the box first, I think,” Clarke told her, noticing her confusion. “Or whatever you want, it doesn’t really matter-“

She was interrupted by a sneezing fit, and Lexa got up to go get tissues and wasn’t able to get to her gifts till Clarke was properly tended to.

What she discovered in the box was not a bracelet, but a necklace – a dainty silvery chain with a tiny crystal-studded heart charm, it was incredibly delicate and exactly like something she’d considered buying herself just a few weeks ago. But she hadn’t told Clarke, not to her knowledge at least, and so the fact that she’d managed to buy something almost exactly like what she’d wanted was beyond baffling.

Not to mention it now felt silly that she’d worried that buying jewelry was too much.

If it was too much, then at least they were both equally as ‘too much’.

“It’s…I love it,” Lexa said quietly.

“You mentioned you snapped your favorite necklace on something a month ago,” Clarke told her. “So I…well, I only meant to get you _that,_ ” she said, nodding at the diary in Lexa’s lap. “But I saw this when I was walking by a shop and I…I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Let me put it on you,” Clarke then said, reaching for the box. “I think it’ll look great on your skin.”

And it really did. Not that Lexa really saw, not until at Clarke’s encouragement she got up to go see it for herself in the mirror – it was just dainty enough to fit her style, and very feminine, and laid just perfectly against her skin, shining faintly.

Wearing something that was from Clarke made Lexa feel a way she hadn’t expected at all.

Warm, and…safe.

And maybe, just _maybe_ , slightly claimed – but in the best of ways. Perfectly free, but still hers.

The idea of being Clarke’s really made Lexa feel amazing.

She came back to Clarke holding the diary in her hands with an excited look in her eyes.

“I know you haven’t gotten one for this year yet,” she told her as she sat down. “And…I think you’ll like this one.”

It did look nice – on the outside it had a palm-leaf print on white, with 2019 printed in gold. But on the inside…it only took a few pages for Lexa to understand why Clarke thought she’d like it so much.

Every few pages, there was a drawing, made by Clarke. Doodles of flowers and buildings and people and animals, everything really, little sketches of Lexa, even some quick paintings here and there – it seemed that, at least once a week, the diary had a little something done by Clarke. Lexa leafed through the whole diary, completely in awe, and, when she finished looking through, didn’t even know what to say.

“This is…it’s-“ she scrambled to find words, but couldn’t find any that she hadn’t already said about the necklace. “It’s amazing and I do really mean it, too.”

Clarke chuckled. “I can tell. You look like you’re about to cry.”

“You make me emotional, what can I say,” Lexa laughed, putting the diary down and wrapping her arms around Clarke. “Really, this is…wow. I love it.”

Clarke let out a content sigh as she settled into Lexa’s lap properly, her head resting against Lexa’s shoulder.

“Today was really nice.”

“You’re getting sleepy, aren’t you?”

Clarke shook her head. “Not yet. We haven’t had dessert.”

“We don’t have to have it today-“

Clarke shook her head. “I want to see what you got. You talked that cake bar up so much during dinner that you can’t just tell me I have to wait till tomorrow to try-“

“Okay, okay,” Lexa laughed. “I get it. Cakes it is.”

“Cakes? Plural?”

“You’ll see.”

“Now?”

“No, we can stay here for a bit.”

“Mm…good.”

* * *

When they did get up to have dessert, neither one of them really had the energy to properly set the table. Clarke insisted on at least one candle, and while Lexa set out the cakes, Clarke boiled some water to make some more tea – her throat was really killing her, and as the day had gone on, her voice had gotten even more hoarse, so much so that swallowing and speaking now made her throat hurt.

A good cup of chamomile was sure to remedy that, at least a little.

Lexa had gotten a little red-glazed mousse cake with ‘be mine’ written atop it in gold, and a few heart-shaped macarons to go with it. The mousse cake, so far as she could recall, was raspberry and white chocolate flavoured, while the macarons were rose-flavoured.

They enjoyed their little night cap in the form of tea and cakes, and by the time they were done, it was only a little past eight – but Clarke, being sick, was already beyond drowsy and definitely ready to go to bed.

“You’re not too tired, are you?” Lexa asked as they headed upstairs. “I didn’t wear you out?”

Clarke let out a little laugh. “You wouldn’t even let me help you clean up the kitchen. So you definitely didn’t wear me out.”

“No headache?”

“A little bit, but I promise you it’s not your fault-“ Clarke laughed. “You worry too much.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I just have a nasty cold, that’s all,” Clarke sighed, heading to her closet to find some pjs. “It’s not like I’m dying. And you…you made this day perfect, so…”

“I do hope it was great,” Lexa smiled. “Cause I did try. A lot.”

“It was amazing and you know it.”

There was a slight pause while Lexa wriggled out of her skirt and shirt, feeling liberated after being in the confines of the tight skirt for so long.

“I really hope you get better soon,” she told Clarke, who was still getting dressed.

“And I hope you don’t get sick because of me.”

“It would be worth it,” Lexa replied, laying down on the bed and letting out a sigh.

Clarke walked out to find Lexa laying on her bed in just her underwear, and let out a groan. “Don’t look so sexy when I’m not healthy enough to do anything about it, please.”

Lexa just smirked. “What, I’m not allowed to tease you?”

“Cruel,” Clarke tutted on her way to the bathroom, “Absolutely cruel.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” came Clarke’s reply. “I really, _really_ do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i seriously didn't mean to write so much but oh well i don't think anyone's complaining

**Author's Note:**

> don't forget to leave kudos and comments my pals, any validation is very much appreciated  
> you can find me on tumblr @artsy-polarbear


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